


Continuing Travels of Cophine, Part 1

by ce_ucumatli



Series: Continuing Travels of Cophine [1]
Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: F/F, Kitchen Sex, Light Bondage, Post-Canon, Spanking, most of it's not sexy though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2018-12-30 20:39:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 64,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12116799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ce_ucumatli/pseuds/ce_ucumatli
Summary: Post-season5, Cophine adventures in Latin America.  A divergence from the always wonderful A Galaxy of Women.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This follows the chapters I wrote for A Galaxy of Women, and you should totally read that entire work, but this can stand by itself, as well. There are no other Ledas introduced by name here, either. This is more about what they're doing when they're not curing them. You can read A Galaxy of Women here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11836590/chapters/26716833
> 
> You can also find me on tumblr here: https://lobsters-on-their-heads.tumblr.com/

Cosima still wasn't used to summer in late November. Their hotel room window was open, with a nice breeze fluttering the curtains, and she'd been wearing short sleeves for more than a month. Even in San Francisco it was cool and rainy this time of year, but here in Argentina it was hot. 

The heat was more comfortable to think about than the image that greeted her on her screen, though. For months since leaving Toronto, she'd gotten daily updates on her cell cultures back in the lab under The Rabbit Hole. Thanks to the wonders of modern technology, a computer tracked temperature, light levels, and humidity levels of the enclosure, and emailed her four photographs of the cultures, from four different angles, at the same time every day. Once a day, Hell-Wizard would check on them in person, and if anything seemed amiss he emailed her, too. 

And until yesterday, things had been just peachy on that end. She had stem cells that were on their way to becoming various mouse organs. Not anymore. Ninety percent of the cultures were dead, and the others were heading in that direction. Something had gone terribly wrong, and she didn't even know what. 

“I need a joint,” she said to the empty room. Nothing answered her. “Or a drink.”

Outside, a bicycle bell rang, and Cosima perked up. She closed the tabs on her laptop and stuck her head out the window, hoping to get a glimpse of Delphine coming back, but it was a food delivery boy, not her girlfriend. Delphine had been at the hospital all day, leaving Cosima behind, once again, to work on her dissertation. 

Cosima leaned against the window sill and checked her phone. Alison had sent her pictures of the kids playing in the snow, including one of the twins captioned “Babies' first snow!” If the kids were all with Alison, maybe Cosima could get a chat with Sarah. 

When she Skyped Sarah an hour later, Cosima sat in the window sill, giving her sister a view of the sunny street and lush trees of Buenos Aires outside. 

“God, I kind of hate you right now,” Sarah said. She wore a heavy wool sweater and her nose was pink from cold. 

Cosima laughed. “Well, we'll be back in a few weeks. You can laugh at our climate shock when we get off the plane.”

“God, just a few weeks. Hard to believe it's been that long already. Your parents still coming up?”

Cosima took a deep breath and nodded. “Yup. They fly in on December 15th. Staying for two weeks.”

Sarah's smile showed off the Leda teeth that Cosima had now seen on close to seventy women. “Are you nervous?” she asked. “You said you were planning to tell them everything.”

“Yes. And yes, I'm still planning to.”

“How's Delphine feel about it? About meeting your parents, I mean. That's a big step, yeah?”

“It is a big step. She says she's nervous. Honestly, after they hear about the whole clone business, meeting Delphine should be a piece of cake. They'll love her; I know they will.”

“`Course they will.”

They settled into a comfortable silence, but Sarah didn't miss the worried look in Cosima's eyes. “Something bothering you, Cos?”

“Oh.” Cosima waved her hands. “It's nothing. My samples aren't working out in the lab, that's all. I need to start over once I get back. It'll be a pain in the ass, but I can do it.”

“Sounds rough. You look like you've got something else on your mind, though.”

That was one trouble with being clones, Cosima thought. Their faces were so familiar that it was harder to hide things from each other. “It's stupid,” she said.

“Uh huh.” Sarah's face told her what she thought of that.

“I'm not nervous about introducing Delphine to my parents,” Cosima said, “but I keep thinking about it. Like, how it's gonna go, what I'm gonna say. I think about it, like, even more than I think about how to explain the clone business.”

“Really? Why? Have they never met one of your girlfriends before?”

“Oh, hell, they've met lots of girlfriends before. It's just...” She leaned back in her chair and held up her hands like they would catch an answer in the air. “That's just it, though. They've met so many girls I've dated, but Delphine's not like any of the other women I've ever been with. It almost feels weird to call her my girlfriend.”

Sarah's eyebrows slid up a few centimeters. “Does it?”

“Yeah, like, she's so much more than that. I've had girlfriends before, and none of them came close to what Delphine means to me.”

Sarah's smile was smaller this time, but her eyes sparkled. “Does Delphine know that?”

The question made her pause. She wanted to say yes, but had she ever really spelled it out to her that way? Of course Delphine knew she loved her, that she wanted to stay with her and have adventures with her. “Kind of?” Cosima finally offered. “I mean yeah, she knows. I just want everyone to know, too.”

Sarah took a drink of tea and smacked her lips. “Sounds like you need to put a ring on her finger, Cos. Make it official.”

“Yeah...” Cosima stared into the space just beyond the computer screen. “I've been thinking about that too.”

“What's stopping you, then?”

“I dunno. I've just never done this before. And, life doesn't seem as real here, you know? We're living out of suitcases, going from place to place, never staying still for long. We have no idea what we're gonna do once we've cured everybody. I mean hopefully I'll get my PhD, but then what? What if we can't get jobs in the same town, or one of us can't get a job at all? A PhD's no guarantee of a job.”

Towards the end of Cosima's rambling, Sarah started shaking her head. “Cosima, come on. You really think you won't get a job?”

“I don't know. I might not.”

“Okay, I mean, the world might blow up tomorrow, right, but that doesn't mean you can't ask Delphine to marry you.”

“But I don't even know how long we'll be traveling.”

“That's alright. You don't have to _plan_ the wedding. I mean, hell, you could elope in, like, Spain or something if you really wanted to, but I know a couple people up here that would be royally pissed if they couldn't attend the ceremony. More than a couple, actually.”

The thought of Alison and Felix's faces if they were told they'd miss a wedding flashed before her face and made her smile. “Alison would decorate, wouldn't she?”

“Unless you've got someone else lined up.”

There was another bicycle bell, and this time it was Delphine, coasting up to the hotel on her rented bicycle, wearing sunglass and a loose shirt that flapped open in the breeze to show off her figure. Cosima said goodbye to Sarah and gave her love to everyone up there before closing the laptop and going to greet her girlfriend. 

* *

After curing the two clones living in Buenos Aires, they flew to Mexico City, their second-to-last stop before returning to Toronto in December. According to their sheet, there were four clones within a 200 kilometer radius of Mexico City. As far as they could tell from conversations with doctors and scoping out social media, none of them showed symptoms. Neither did the one clone in Monterrey, their last stop. As the plane began its decent into the city, Cosima took in the sheer size of it. She knew Mexico City was one of the largest cities in the world, and she'd seen big cities, but this was something else. They weren't even flying over the main parts of the city, either.

At the baggage claim, Cosima got her suitcase quickly from the conveyor belt, then stood back and watched Delphine wait for hers. Keeping separate suitcases had seemed excessive at first, but now it was part of what kept their relationship intact. They had drastically different packing methods, and Cosima was certain that Delphine would have dumped her months ago if they had to pack their things in the same container week after week. The sensitive materials – identifying information about the clones, technology, and the cure itself - were always in a carry on. Neither of them trusted the airlines not to drop or soak something precious.

Thirty minutes passed, and Delphine still stood waiting. Almost everyone else had left. It was only Delphine, Cosima, and a woman with her young daughter. “Maybe someone else took it,” Cosima suggested. 

The Mexican woman asked if they, too, were still waiting, and they said yes, they were. After a couple of weeks in Argentina, Mexican Spanish sounded strange, but to Cosima's ears, delightfully clear. Then the conveyor belt stopped turning, and the sign advertising which flight's luggage was there winked off.

“Dios mío,” said the Mexican woman. 

“Merde,” said Delphine.

At the customer service office, the four of them waited another hour before anyone arrived to help them. Cosima managed to kill a little time by teaching the woman's daughter how to make origami swans and the little folded paper games than Helena had been so fond of. Delphine, meanwhile, called and emailed the airline a couple of times with no success. When the customer service employee finally arrived, she let the Mexican woman go first. When it was her turn, the employee gave her his best smile, and Cosima had to hide a grin. 

“I am so very sorry for the inconvenience, miss,” he said repeatedly, in English. “Can I please have a phone number where I can call you when your luggage arrives?”

She gave it to him, along with the professional email account she and Cosima shared for the purposes of clone business. 

“Is there anything else, ehh, anything at all I can help you with today, miss?” A light sheen had appeared on his forehead. 

“No.” 

She slung her carry-on bag over her shoulder and stalked out of the room in a way Cosima hadn't seen since she was the head of Dyad. 

“Thanks,” Cosima told him, and followed her out. 

It was nearly ten pm when they left the airport, and Delphine texted her friend Julian to tell him about their delay. Julian was an old medical school classmate of hers, who'd married a Mexican man and opened a clinic here, and was letting them crash at his house for the duration of their stay. 

“You can borrow any of my stuff you need,” Cosima said, “until you get yours back.”

Delphine shook her head. “I might not get it back.” They climbed into a cab and sped off towards Julian's house.

“Have some faith. They probably just dropped it in Bogota instead of sending it all the way.”

Delphine just grunted at that. Cosima took her hand and rubbed her thumb over her knuckles. _This is why the cure is always in a carry-on_ , she thought. 

* *

They woke the next day around mid-morning. Julian and his husband had stayed up with them the night before, getting them settled in the guest room and commiserating over the fate of Delphine's lost suitcase. Not expecting a new change of clothes anytime soon, Delphine had washed the outfit she'd travelled in and hung it up to dry, oblivious or not caring about Julian's husband's discomfort at seeing women's under clothes on his clothes line. 

Both Julian and his husband were gone when Cosima crawled out of bed in the morning. When she padded into the kitchen, she stopped for a moment. Delphine was wearing one of Cosima's old T-shirts, which was a few sizes too small for Delphine, underwear, and nothing else. She had her back to Cosima, busying herself with making coffee and cutting up the fresh fruit they were told to help themselves to. As quietly as possible, Cosima slid up behind her and wrapped her arms around Delphine's waist.

“Buen día, mon amour,” she whispered into Delphine's neck.

The language mixture made Delphine snort. “Good morning to you, too, chérie. I'm not sure that _buen día_ is the Mexican way to say it, though. I've heard that's more Argentinian.”

Cosima didn't give a flying fuck which was more appropriate at the moment. She ran her hands over Delphine's hips and waist, then up over her stomach. “I'm glad you helped yourself to my shirt. It should be illegal for you to look this sexy, though.”

Another snort. “Are you complaining?”

“Not even a little bit.” She waited until Delphine put the knife down to move her left hand down over the jut of Delphine's pelvis to the indent where her thigh began. She was rewarded by a slight twitch and a sharp intake of air. Moving Delphine's hair aside to nuzzle her neck, she followed the line of Delphine's underwear down the inside of her thigh as far as she could reach. “You should wear my shirts more often,” she whispered. 

Delphine gave a low moan and Cosima knew she was chewing on her lower lip as she leaned back into Cosima's embrace. “You're a brat,” she said.

“I know.” She drew her fingers back up, slowly, focusing on the texture of Delphine's underwear and the shape of her body beneath them while her right hand crept up Delphine's torso until it reached her delightfully bra-free breasts. “We haven't had sex in Mexico yet.”

“We...” Delphine might have said something like _We just got to Mexico_ , but Cosima's fingers reached her nipple and cut off the rest of that sentence.

“Do you want to come back to bed?” Cosima asked. “Or should we stay here?”

The idea of fucking Delphine in a kitchen while coffee brewed and a plate of fresh tropical fruit waited for them _did_ have a certain appeal, Cosima had to admit. With a quick glance, she saw that the cabinets weren't ideally situated for Delphine to sit on the counter without hitting her head, though. There was no table here, either; that was in the dining room, which had a big picture window with a view to the street. While she considered her options, Delphine refused to answer the question, griping Cosima's right hand under her shirt and twisting her hips against her left. 

_Fuck it._

Cosima reached out and snagged the kitchen stool with her foot, pulling back long enough to spin Delphine around by the hips to face her. For an endless moment they kissed, and Cosima tasted papaya and mangos on Delphine's breath. Then she pushed Delphine back against the counter. “Kitchen it is,” she whispered against her mouth. Leaning down, she took Delphine's left leg behind the knee and hoisted it onto the kitchen stool. 

As Cosima yanked off her own shirt and folded it under her knees, Delphine laughed and snapped the waistband of her underwear. “You don't want me to take these off?”

Cosima gave her a shark-smile. “I've gotten you off before with these on. Maybe a different pair, but close enough.” She kissed her then, lightly, on the damp fabric covering her clitoris, and grinned when Delphine's hips bucked. 

“Yes, that was our first time.” Delphine took her foot off the stool, pushing Cosima back onto her haunches, and pulled off her underwear before Cosima could regain her balance.

“There's something so sexy about getting you off through your panties, though. Maybe I like having to work for it.”

“And I like it when your tongue is directly on me.” She helped Cosima back into the kneeling position and returned her foot to the stool. 

Cosima was plenty happy to oblige her there. She wrapped one arm around Delphine's thigh for balance and drew her tongue from the center of her to the tip of her clit, then rolled it around a few times. Neither of them was in the most comfortable position, so she couldn't let this last for too long. She slipped one finger up inside of her and did most of the work with her mouth, licking and sucking like Delphine was a perfectly ripe nectarine. 

It didn't take long before Delphine's legs were trembling and Cosima felt her spasm around her forefinger. With a bit of effort, she stood up, draping her shirt over the stool where Delphine's foot had just been. She let Delphine pull her in for a sloppy kiss, arms around each other. _I could do this every damn day,_ she thought. To Delphine, she said, “Sit down, gorgeous,” as she steered her still trembling girlfriend to the stool. 

“You must be very pleased with yourself,” Delphine said. She still clung to Cosima, but now her face pressed against her breasts.

“Oh, I am. I definitely am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Parts of this work were inspired by this tweet:
> 
> https://twitter.com/EvelyneBrochu/status/795975765603090436
> 
> and this delightful fanart: 
> 
> http://prodigysheep.tumblr.com/post/91507501460/i-made-the-thing-based-on-this-little-cutie
> 
> Also, I am not a scientist, so I have no idea if Cosima's science experiment back home makes sense or not.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's no sex in this one. Sorry.

Alison handled the money on the Foundation's end. That was the arrangement they all agreed on when the Foundation was created. She put a million dollars into a ready-to-access account with two debit cards and the rest of the money into interest-earning accounts of various types and risk levels. When Cosima saw the total amount Rachel Duncan had given them, Delphine had to remind her to breathe.

“How many countries will you be visiting?” Alison asked one evening in July. They all sat in her living room, pretending to go over details of the trip, but mostly snacking, enjoying each other's company, and playing with the babies.

“Exactly?” Cosima asked. “I dunno, maybe 100? It depends. Some of the sisters might not be where Dyad says they are. I'm not.”

“Do we know how long this whole trip will take?”

“No idea.”

Alison typed some numbers into her adding machine and frowned. It was the first time Cosima had seen someone actually use an adding machine in real life, and she wanted Alison to have a yellow visor to go with it. “Maybe we can plan out the next six months, at least? For the finances, I mean. Let's assume $100 a night for hotels, $30 a day for food, oh, and don't forget plane tickets.” She scribbled some notes on a pad. “Is it reasonable that you might be flying once a week or so, on average?”

Cosima had zoned out watching Delphine bounce baby Arthur on her knee, and came back to Alison with a dull “huh?”

Alison sighed. “Let's just assume that you'll be flying somewhere new, on average, once a week. You said you didn't want your plane tickets set in stone-” She rolled her eyes to show what she thought of that. “- so you'll be spending max money on all of your tickets because they'll be last minute. Correct?”

“Sounds about right.”

“Well, that will be several hundred dollars per flight, per person. Maybe even over a thousand per person.” More note scribbling. “One thousand dollars per flight per person, once a week, for six months.... that comes out to... $48,000. Roughly. To twenty-four destinations, which we're also ballparking right now. In the course of a year, of course, we would double that to $96,000. Until you fly to Japan and the Antipodes, of course, which will probably triple the cost.”

Sarah leaned over to catch the end of Alison's spiel. “Are you forgetting they have one million dollars for this? I think we can afford $100,000 in plane tickets, and, what, a couple thousand on food and hotels overall? Hell, go out for drinks, see the sights, live a little. The money's all there.”

“It's all an estimate, though. It could cost four times this amount, and this is only basic travel expenses. Some of our sisters will need to have medical care paid for from this fund, or they might need to be flown somewhere. Bribes might need to be paid. We don't know. We need to keep costs low.” Alison shook her head. “And Cosima, you're not even going to be administering the cure to anyone?”

Cosima shifted in her seat. “I mean, we all decided it's best that the clones stay naive. That's harder to do if the person curing them looks exactly like them.”

“Of course. That, I understand, it's just... Well, frankly, it would make a lot more sense for Delphine to travel by herself.”

In the silence that followed, Delphine said, “Not to me, it doesn't.” She hoisted baby Arthur up to her shoulder, where he tangled his hands in her hair. “Cosima developed the cure,” she went on, “she needs to be present when it's administered, even if she's not in the same room. She'll have control over it, not me.”

Cosima would have kissed her then, but baby Arthur picked that moment to sneeze all over Delphine's face. 

 

* *  
* *

 

In Mexico City, Cosima settled into Julian and Martín's spacious living room. It was around noon on their first full day in the city, almost time for her weekly Skype call with Alison, and Cosima was still finishing her breakfast. It was strange being in this house alone, surrounded by all the signs of other people's life together, after months and months of hotel rooms. Coffee cup in one hand, Cosima strolled around the perimeter of the living room, looking at the photographs and mementos on the walls and bookshelves. One shelf was dedicated to Julian and Martín's wedding. They had married on a beach, in matching pastel suits. There were photos of each man surrounded by his parents and extended family as well as couple photos of just them. Cosima wondered if she would ever meet Delphine's family. She'd asked once, after arranging for her own parents to meet Delphine, and Delphine deflected so well that Cosima didn't even realize that she'd never gotten an answer until a week later. When she'd brought it up again, it was clear Delphine was not excited about it, so Cosima dropped it.

The laptop _blooped_ a few minutes after noon, revealing Alison's face framed by her former craft room. Cosima was still bummed that Alison had done away with the best craft room she'd ever seen. 

“Hello, Cosima,” Alison said, looking somewhere at the table beside her computer.

“Hola, Alison. ¿Como estás?”

Alison frowned a bit. She'd never learned Spanish, but really, Cosima had greeted her that way on all of their past conversations, so there shouldn't be any surprise there.

“I'm busy,” Alison said. “Brenda quit, so I've been managing the accounts by myself this week.”

“Wait, what?” Brenda McAllister was their accountant for the Foundation, hired shortly after Cosima and Delphine left Canada, since no one in Clone Club had significant experience with non-profits or tax law. “Why?”

“No idea. She just left, with two hours notice.”

“Holy shit.”

“We put out some ads for a new accountant, but with the holidays coming up, I have no idea what kinds of people will apply.”

Cosima had no idea what the holidays had to do with it, but she kept that to herself. “I'm sure we can manage in the meantime. I mean, Brenda got us started; that was the biggest hurdle.”

“It was, but it won't remain that way. Something else will come along. It always does.” Alison finally paused whatever other task she was doing to look at Cosima on her screen. “Where are you right now? Is that your hotel room?”

Cosima looked around at the spacious living room with the dining room set in view behind her. “Oh, no. We're staying with a friend of Delphine's.”

“Oh. For free, I hope?”

“I mean, we brought them some gifts from Argentina because we're not assholes, but yeah, it's free.”

“Thank heavens.”

“Why? Last I checked, the account had plenty of money left. Or did Brenda take it all with her when she left?”

“No, she didn't, but there's a chance we may need to pay her replacement a little bit more. For the moment, I have added a bit more to our pay up here-” she gestured to her herself and her home to indicate Donnie's involvement “-since we've taken on more responsibilities.”

“Sure, that's fine.”

“Enough about that, though, how are things down there?”

Cosima thought back to her morning with Delphine and smiled. “Oh, swell. Delphine's friend does cosmetic surgery here, and his husband's a banker, so they're pretty well set up. Only downside is the airline lost Delphine's suitcase.”

The indignation on Alison's face was almost worth the loss. “What? Did you call the company?”

“Yes, we called them. Delphine's also tweeted and commented on all their social media. Nothing yet.”

“Hmpf. Maybe one of our sisters down there works for the airline and can assist?”

“Uh... if they do, that would be a weird ask. And I don't think any of them do. Not for that airline, at least. Besides, there's the chance it was just stolen.”

“Well, it's a good thing we got that travel insurance, then, isn't it? You've filed a claim, right?”

“Yes,” Cosima said, making a mental note to do so after getting off the call. “I've gotta go out and buy a bunch of stuff today though to replace what we lost.”

“The cure wasn't-”

“No, the cure is fine. We always carry the medical bag with us on the plane. Trust me, I'd be freaking out a LOT more if we'd lost that.”

After that, Alison caught her up on the family business up there. The babies were healthy, Helena finally had legally (if illegally produced) identification documents, Gemma was going to star in her school play, Donnie's job was going well, and Felix had gotten Oscar interested in painting. “Oh, and we tried another church this past Sunday.”

“Another one?” Cosima knew Alison had stopped going to her old church after some drama at the Fall Festival, but she thought she'd found another one already. 

“Yes. It's in the city, actually, not far from Sarah and Kira, so I thought I'd ask them to come along next Sunday.”

Cosima took a moment to imagine Sarah in a church. “Good luck with that,” she said.

 

* *

 

On her way into the shopping district near the clinic, Cosima reflected that, on this trip at least, she was equal parts Delphine's girlfriend and Dr. Cormier's personal assistant. She didn't mind. In fact, she would have done more if she had the skills or if Delphine allowed it, but there were some things Delphine refused help with, and which Cosima admitted she would probably suck at. Namely, buying clothes for Delphine. Cosima could handle buying something like a jacket, which Delphine didn't need because she still had hers, or socks, which she did need and Cosima would buy for her, but all other items of clothing were off limits. Delphine would buy them herself that afternoon after her time at the clinic. 

Cosima had a shopping list ordered from essential to not, with drug store items at the top. After visiting four different drug stores in a one mile radius of the clinic, Cosima had a few bags filled with everything Delphine needed for her skin, hair (on her head and elsewhere), eyebrows, nails, and teeth, plus assorted over-the-counter medications, but still missed the second-to-top item on the list. They'd heard that tampons were hard to find in Latin America, so they'd brought several boxes down from Canada, all packed in Delphine's suitcase. Cosima's periods were so irregular that she always kept one in her purse for emergencies, but that was just one. Delphine's period was regulated by birth control, which, of course, had also been in Delphine's suitcase. Replacement pills had been blessedly easy to get at the first farmacia, but Delphine had nearly finished with her current month's doses, and she was scheduled to be on sugar pills tomorrow, meaning her normal period would start. Before schlepping another couple of blocks to yet another drug store, Cosima sent her girlfriend a quick text.

_How opposed are you to pads? cause that might be our only option._

The reply came several minutes later. _Very. Have you checked everywhere?_

Cosima sighed and adjusted the bags on her arms. _Working on it. Maybe you can just take the regular pills for a while, save the placebos for home. Extra hormones for a week won't kill you._

In the time before the response came, Cosima ducked into a little clothing store and bought several pairs of animal print socks for Delphine. When she got back on the sidewalk, Delphine replied. _Just get some tampons, chérie._

She rolled her eyes. 

The fifth store she tried was close to a small community of English-speaking expats, but still, they had no tampons. Cosima waited in line ahead of some chatty older women from the States who were happy to commiserate with her after they'd made their own purchases. 

“Those are hard to find down here, sweetheart,” one told her. She reminded Cosima of a much older version of Adele, with huge sunglasses and a flowery hat. “I've heard there's a place a few miles from here that sells them, but you know, I haven't had to worry about that in so long, I don't even know.”

Cosima gave her a small smile. She was thinking about dinner, which they were having at a restaurant near the clinic, which was now close to two miles away. 

“Are you just visiting?” the woman's friend asked. “You sure have done some shopping, it looks like.”

“Yeah, we're just here for a couple days.” Seeing the look on their faces, she added, “Our, uh, one of our suitcases went missing, so I'm restocking.”

“Oh, isn't that just the worst? The airlines lost it?”

She nodded. The sun had sunk to eye level, burning her eyes and face as soon as stepped back outside, the older women right behind her. For a moment her heart sank as she realized they were going in her direction, until the one without sunglasses unfurled a wide blue parasol, blocking the sun for both of them. 

“I'm Eileen,” the woman with the parasol said, “and this is Cindy. Where are you comin' from?”

Cosima ran through a quick list in her mind of all the places they'd been, but said only, “Toronto.”

“Oh, it's cold up there! No wonder you came down. I'm from Virginia and Cindy's from Georgia, but we met down here. You'll wanna stay, trust me. Who're you here with?”

That was always a sticky question with strangers, especially in more conservative parts of Latin America, but they'd both decided not to lie about it or hide their relationship, so Cosima said, “I'm here with my girlfriend.”

Both Cindy and Eileen seemed pleased with that. “That is the way to do it,” Eileen said. “Forget boyfriends or husbands or whatever, just travel with a girlfriend.”

“That's what I did my first time down here,” Cindy said. “I came down with a couple girlfriends. Eileen, you've met one of them, my girlfriend Mary, with the little dog. Anyway, it was worlds better than traveling with my husband.”

They reached the end of the block and smiled again at Cosima, looking like they would keep walking with her. “Yeah,” Cosima said. “Totally. I, uh, gotta go this way. It was nice to meet you both.”

Heading off in the wrong direction on purpose, grumbled to herself about the pains of heteronormativity. In Spanish, of course, Delphine was her _novia_ , which was more clearcut since it always meant romance, but some Spanish speakers tried correcting her, asking if she really mean _novio_ if Delphine wasn't around to reference. A few times in English she'd called Delphine her _partner_ , which didn't help any either since they were here on a medical trip, and people then lumped their relationship into the “strictly professional” category. A couple of times she'd wanted to just shout at people, “I'm here with the _woman I'm in love with!_ ” 

She checked the time and cursed. Delphine would be meeting her for dinner in twenty minutes, and Cosima would most likely not make it there in time. “Fuck it,” she muttered, and sent for an Uber. She didn't care if Alison disapproved; she'd eat the costs herself if it meant not staggering another two miles in this sun. While she waited for the Uber to arrive, she got an idea. She copy/pasted Julian and Martín's address into a text message to Alison and added a message. _Please overnight a small box of tampons pls and ty._

* *

After dinner in a lovely little restaurant near the clinic, they took a bus back to Julian's house, where he and Martín served them drinks. Within five minutes he and Delphine had fallen back into reminiscing about medical school days in Paris. While they laughed about some professor with particularly large eyebrows, Martín turned to Cosima with a knowing look. “It will be this way for your entire visit, I'm afraid. Another friend visited us last year, and all they talked about was the old days.”

“It's okay,” she said. “I've heard, like, nothing about Delphine's school days. I could sit and listen all day.” It wasn't quite true. Cosima knew a little about Delphine's boarding school and how she'd been so miserable she tried to kill herself once, though she didn't know exactly why. She knew about the restaurants and parks in Paris Delphine loved, because Delphine wanted to take her there, and she knew about some of the friends Delphine still talked to now and then, like Julian. Bits and pieces of Delphine's past had filtered through their conversations, but the majority of Delphine's past remained fuzzy in Cosima's mind. 

Julian and Delphine moved on to talk about some student protests which took place during their time in medical school, and how one protest caused half of their anatomy class to miss an exam, and Martín stood up with an exaggerated yawn. “I've heard it all before,” he told Cosima. “So I'm going to read a book in bed. Goodnight, everyone.” He kissed Julian and waved to Delphine and left. 

Another glass of wine, and Julian and Delphine's English became peppered with French phrases. Delphine stretched out her legs under the table to prop her feet up on Cosima's lap, her cheeks flushing from the wine and laughter. Cosima just watched her, heart full to bursting. _This is what I want with you_ , she thought. _I want to sit with you and learn everything about you, and know that I'll see you tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that..._

Her reverie was broken when Julian put another glass down in front of her, leaned into her space, and gestured towards Delphine. “Has she told you about Jérôme?”

 _“Jérôme??”_ Cosima asked with an eyebrow wiggle. Quite early in their relationship, she'd learned that Delphine had had quite a few male sexual partners in the past. There was no surprise there; it would've shocked Cosima more if Delphine hadn't fucked a lot of people, frankly. Besides, it would be the height of hypocrisy for Cosima to make a stink about it, considering how many people she had been with herself.

“Oh, _mon dieu,_ ” Delphine groaned. “We're not talking about that right now. Please.”

“Oh, come on,” Cosima said with a laugh. “I wanna hear about it!”

Julian acted aghast, clutching invisible pearls at his chest. “You haven't told her about Jérôme? How long have you two been together, again?”

“He's not important,” Delphine insisted. “I don't want to talk about that.”

“Come on,” Cosima repeated. “I tell you about my exes.” She squeezed one of Delphine's socked feet on her lap. It was quite cool inside now, and Delphine wore a pair of socks Cosima'd purchased for her that day, with monkeys holding bananas on them. 

“Fine,” Delphine said. She took a final drink of wine and pulled her feet from Cosima's lap, then stood up. “Julian can tell you what he wants, but I don't want to listen. I lived through it once already.”

Cosima watched her lanky frame vanish around the corner towards their bedroom. She almost got up to follow her, but Julian settled back into narrative mode.

“Fine,” he said, “I'll tell you. Jérôme was Delphine's boyfriend for, oh... two years, I think maybe.”

“Okay.” With a last glance in Delphine's direction, Cosima turned back to him. “I mean, I figured he was.”

“They met the first week of medical school. He was... ouff, he was handsome. And brilliant, of course, because we all were, and everyone knew they would be together after the first day.”

Cosima nodded along. If Julian was trying to upset or scandalize her, it wasn't working.

“They were the perfect couple,” he went on. “They were beautiful, brilliant, rich. People took bets on them. How famous they would be, which famous people they would befriend, when they would marry, everything. He took her everywhere. Every soirée at a professor's house, every gala, every big name restaurant in the city.”

He tossed an olive into his mouth and the briefest flicker of jealousy finally popped into Cosima's head as she wondered if one of those restaurants was one Delphine would take her to. _And? It's not like you don't have those places yourself, that an ex showed you and you love by itself now. Delphine's allowed that, too._

“He took her to his parents' summer home in Vis,” Julian went on.

“Vis?” Cosima asked. The tiny flare of jealousy, which she'd just squashed, came back, larger this time, as Julian looked at her with surprise. Apparently, everyone knew where Vis was, and Cosima had just revealed herself as not being in the know.

“The playground for the rich,” he explained with a hand wave. “It's an island in the Adriatic Sea, part of Croatia.”

“Oh. _That_ Vis. I must've been thinking of a different one.” She drank some more wine, a little glad now that Delphine wasn't there to see her embarrass herself.

“Anyway, we were all jealous all the time because they were just too perfect, both of them. It's like they were keeping all of this perfection just for themselves.”

“Mhm.” This must have been why Delphine left, she thought. Cosima wouldn't want an old friend gushing about how great she'd been with an ex, either. 

Julian shook his head and sighed. “He proposed to her, too. Did she never tell you that?”

She blinked. “No. No, she's never mentioned it.”

“Hmmm. It was a big deal. I mean, of course it was a big deal, everything they did was a big deal, but the way he did it was big. A lot of us knew he was planning it; he wanted me to come buy the ring with him, but I didn't want to.” He drank some more wine and looked into space for a moment, maybe remembering other things from that time. “He proposed at the awards night for the school. She'd won an award for some kind of student research, I don't remember what, no one remembers what. Her parents were there – both of them, and I'm sure you know how hard that it to accomplish.”

Cosima did not know. She knew Delphine's parents were divorced, wealthy, and not in frequent contact with her, and that was about it. “Hmm,” she said.

“His family was there, too. They knew what was coming, and they had their camera all ready.” Julian drank some more wine for dramatic effect, like Cosima didn't already know how the story ended. She just didn't know how the ending would come about. 

“Let me guess,” Cosima said, “he proposed in front of everyone and she said no?”

“No. He proposed in front of everyone, yes, right after she'd gotten her award, but she didn't say no. She said yes.”

“Oh.”

“There were cheers, and the professor who gave her the award hugged her, and people took pictures. Everyone said they'd been waiting for it to happen, it was inevitable. You know how people get.”

Cosima shrugged. Her glass was almost empty, but she didn't want any more wine. She felt like she'd had far too much already. “So she was engaged?” she said. “To some rich doctor, I mean, medical student, named Jérôme?”

“For about six hours, yes. Once the crowds went home and the pictures were all taken, they went back to his apartment and she told him she'd changed her mind. She didn't want to embarrass him in front of everyone, so she'd said yes at first, but....” Julian raised his arms up in a what're you gonna do gesture. “It was a scandal, as you might imagine.”

“I might,” she agreed. 

“ _Mon Dieu_ , I can't believe she never told you that story.”

“Yeah. Yeah, me neither.” For the sake of politeness, she finished her glass of wine, but refused another. “I, uh, I think I'm gonna turn in. Goodnight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would be remiss if I didn't mention the fact that, while I was writing this chapter, which takes place in Mexico City, a massive earthquake hit that city, killing a lot of people (estimates around 300 people as I type this, with many more missing). If you are so moved, please donate to one of the groups helping the recovery effort. I gave to the Mexican Red Cross (https://www.cruzrojamexicana.org.mx/) and MSF (http://www.doctorswithoutborders.org/country-region/mexico), which already had operations in Mexico but help people in disasters worldwide.


	3. Chapter 3

Delphine leaned against the wall in the hallway, listening to Julian tell Cosima the entire story of her relationship with Jérôme Bellot. She'd gone years joyfully not thinking about any of that relationship, except as a means to avoid making the same mistakes again. There'd been no reason to tell Cosima about him; he was ancient history as far as she was concerned, even less a part of her current life than her boarding school suicide attempt. When Julian first brought him up, she'd fled to the bedroom, pacing a few tipsy rounds around the room before going back to the hallway. She didn't want to hear the story again, but she needed to hear _Cosima_ hearing the story. 

She heard the story wrap up and Julian offer Cosima another glass of wine, which was politely declined. She heard the scrape of the chair on the floor, and in a moment Cosima walked into the hallway, inches from Delphine's place against the wall. 

“Hey,” she took Cosima's arm and searched her face. There, in Cosima's beautiful eyes, was the look she hadn't seen in almost a year. The look that said, _Who are you, even? What else aren't you telling me? What else are you hiding?_

“Hey,” Cosima said. 

In the kitchen, Julian busied himself putting things away, humming a little tune as he worked. 

“Come here,” Delphine told Cosima. She took her hand and led her to their room, where she closed the door gently behind them, her eyes never leaving her girlfriend, taking in her face, her eyes, her body language. Cosima did not seem angry, at least, but she was clearly hurt and a little wary.

“Why didn't you tell me about that?” Cosima asked. “I mean, shit happens, but you could've told me about it.”

“I didn't see a reason to.”

“No? You didn't think I'd want to know that you were engaged to a guy for, like, a day?”

Delphine sighed and leaned back against the door. She wanted to keep a hold on Cosima, to physically show her her love, but Cosima pulled away, and she wasn't going to force it. “I didn't think it mattered, no. It doesn't matter to me anymore.” She watched Cosima pace, then sit on the edge of the bed, then stand up again. “I can see it matters to you, though.”

“Of course it matters to me. Everything about you matters to me.”

The words made Delphine's throat tighten. Under different circumstances, they would have been incredibly romantic, but Cosima's face looked so hurt right now... “I'm sorry,” was all Delphine could manage. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner.”

“Why didn't you?”

“I told you, I didn't think it mattered. I wasn't hiding it from you. I told you already, I'm not hiding anything from you anymore. Ask me anything, I'll tell you.”

Cosima chewed on her lip. Delphine was quite sure she hadn't done that until recently, until she started spending all of her time with Delphine, a prodigious lip-chewer herself. “Can you tell you more about this?” Cosima asked. She went over to Delphine and put her hands on her waist. “More about Jérôme and... and everything?”

“Yes. You've heard the story, though. What else do you want to know?”

Cosima moved both of them to sit on the bed, where she drew little patterns on Delphine's thigh. “Why'd you tell him yes, if you didn't want to marry him? I guess that's my main question.”

She blew a puff of air from her mouth. “Because he asked me in front of everybody. And everyone was smiling and looking at us with these, these hearts in their eyes like they were watching a romantic movie. I didn't feel like I had a choice.”

“Hm. Were you expecting it?”

“No. Absolutely not. I'd never thought about marriage at all. I wasn't even sure if I wanted to stay with him after medical school, and we didn't have much time left there. He wanted to work for a big hospital in Paris, doing neurosurgery. I wanted to travel, to research, to keep learning.”

“Did you love him?”

That question again. Everyone had asked her that, at the time. “I told him that I did,” she said now. “Before. After he told me, you know, a few times. I never said it without him saying it first.” Somehow, she needed to Cosima to know that, to know the difference between her feelings for Jérôme and for Cosima. 

“But you didn't.”

Delphine shook her head. “No. I never loved anyone before you.”

Cosima didn't respond right away, but played with Delphine's fingers resting on the bedspread. “It must've been hard to tell him no, after all that,” she said finally.

“It was.” She remembered the growing dread, starting when Jérôme first climbed the steps of the stage, one hand behind his back and roses in the other, and building throughout the night as family and friends hugged and kissed them both, told them how happy they were for them. How Jérôme's parents talked about wedding plans and grandchildren, and her own mother had _smiled_ at her. 

“I guess,” Cosima went on, “it's silly to ask if he was upset.”

She laughed at that. “Oh, he was quite upset. I'd never seen him angry like that before. He had a temper, of course, as most rich boys do, but he'd never directed it towards me before.” At this point in her life, thinking of Jérôme reminded her of the fake PT Westmoreland, of his privilege, his assumptions, his pomposity. Dating Jérôme had helped her manipulate him, actually; it gave her the appropriate background. She would tell Cosima that, later. 

“How did you tell him? I'm guessing you didn't do it in front of a lot of people.”

“No. It was private, in his flat. He wanted to make love, of course, but I... I didn't want him to even touch me anymore. I took off the ring he gave me, and I gave it back to him. I said I was sorry, but I couldn't. I couldn't marry him.” The memory flared in her mind, vivid as it had been then. “He was shocked, at first. I think he thought I was joking. Then he was angry. He was _livid_.”

“What did he do?”

“He yelled, called me names, threatened me. He asked who else I was fucking. He didn't hit me, though.”

Cosima pulled her head back, eyes wide. “Jesus Christ. The fact that you even need to say that...”

“He never hit me. He acted like he wanted to, but he knew that was a bad idea, for himself. He was angry because I made him a victim, a fool, but he knew that if he hit me, I would make things even worse for him.” The horror on Cosima's face only increased, but Delphine smiled. “He did throw the ring at my face though. He said it cost him 15,000 euro, and he wanted me to give him his money back.” She snorted at the thought now.

“Holy shit.”

Delphine wasn't sure which action Cosima was reacting to. Maybe it was all of them. “The next day, he made sure that everyone knew. Before I even set foot on campus, everyone knew I had turned him down, made a fool of him. Julian supported me, actually. He was one of very few people who did, who stayed with me when everyone else treated me like, like... like the worst bitch on the planet. They said I broke his heart, but that wasn't true. If it was, that wasn't why he was so angry. He was angry because he had to call his parents and tell them someone turned him down. I was his prize possession, you see. You heard what Julian said; he would take me places, fancy places, where all the rich people went, and he would show me off. Whenever we went out together, he always had his hand on me, on my waist or the back of my neck. He needed everyone to know that I belonged to him.”

As she spoke, Delphine's eyes fixed on the patterns on the bedspread, her mind stuck in the past. When she finished, she turned to look up at Cosima again, and saw tears in her eyes. 

“I wish you'd told me,” Cosima whispered. “But I really fucking hate this guy.”

“It was a long time ago,” she said, stroking Cosima's face. “He's long gone for me.”

Cosima turned her head to kiss Delphine's fingers, her face pinched, and Delphine knew why. She knew it wasn't only for her sake that Cosima hated Jérôme, but because she knew how it felt to be owned, to be seen as a possession, an accomplishment, rather than a person. In Cosima's case, though, it had been far, far worse. She took a shuddering breath and looked back at Delphine. “I'm glad you told me,” she said. 

“Me too.”

* * 

The next day Delphine did two inoculations, thankfully not together, but nearly. The time between the first clone leaving and the second arriving was less than an hour, and when she saw the second arrive she nearly panicked. As far as she could tell, though, the two had not met, so clone drama would not be ensuing that day. 

There were times she regretted not telling them. She'd seen how much benefit Cosima got from her clone family, and how much more the others had gotten. Sarah and Helena in particular would be much, much worse off without their sisters, and they knew it. What if these women also needed that kind of support system?

In the afternoon, she met Cosima at an open air market where they bought some more gifts for people back home, and Delphine continued replenishing her wardrobe. The clothes she'd lost were all less than a year old, making her grumble as she bought new ones. At least she knew she had a few items of winter wear tucked in the rooms under The Rabbit Hole – clothes which probably still smelled like Revival or Switzerland. Watching her girlfriend sort through a display of wind chimes, she went over and stroked her back. 

“Seeing anything you like?” she asked her.

“Eh.” Cosima gave the vendor a small smile and moved on. “Looking for a Christmas present for my parents. I haven't given them anything in two years; they deserve better than some tourist-trap kitch.”

They'd picked up some sweets already to share with everyone, some accessories for Alison and Helena, more baby clothes and toys than the twins would ever need, and a lewd set of shot glasses for Felix. Kira, Gemma, and Oscar had specific wish lists with links to Amazon, but Charlotte claimed she didn't want anything for Christmas. At the next stall, Cosima picked up a bottle of extra hot hot sauce. “Maybe I'll get this for Charlotte,” she said. “If we all give her weird shit, maybe she'll tell us what she actually wants next year.”

Delphine scanned the warning printed on the bottle, advising the consumer to keep the sauce from eyes, pets, and children, and to avoid consuming if one had heart or respiratory issues. “If we buy this, you're going to try some, aren't you?”

“Heck yeah, I am. My respiratory issues are long gone now, thanks to science.” She paid the vendor, a middle-aged man who's wide grin showed several missing teeth. 

“We can find something better for Charlotte, too.” 

“I know. She's just being all stubborn, too-cool-for-anything.”

“She is a Leda.”

Cosima gave her a sideways look, and she smiled in return. For the past few months, Cosima and Charlotte had spoken on Skype every week on a schedule, with Cosima helping her with homework or school issues, and Delphine had noticed a strong Leda attitude coming through on Charlotte's end. 

When they finished their shopping, they took a local bus back to Julian's house. “Alison does want us to save money,” Cosima commented as they stepped on and found seats, Delphine settling her medical bag on her lap along with the shopping. 

After driving a few blocks, though, the bus stopped, trapped in a clusterfuck of traffic and car horns. Delphine was watching a young man selling flowers by the roadside when Cosima reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and she realized Cosima had been watching her, frowning. “Is everything alright, chérie?” she asked.

“Oh, yeah. I was just thinking.”

“Okay. What were you thinking about?” She smiled at her, trying to keep her tone light, but remembering very well their conversation the night before, when Cosima's expression had been similar. 

“That I don't know much about you. I mean, I know you now, but I don't know who you were. Does that make sense? Like, Julian told me that it's hard to get your parents in the same place together, and he acted like I already knew that. But I don't know anything about your parents except they're divorced.”

“Mmhm.” Delphine saw a couple people watching them, listening to the English, and she wondered how much they understood. “Well, he's right. It is hard to get them in the same place. They don't get along well.”

Cosima took Delphine's hand in hers and ran her thumb over her knuckles. “How old were you when they split?”

“Four years old. I don't remember them ever living together, actually.” She would have left it at that, but Cosima wanted to know more, so she continued. “I spent most of my time with my mother, at her house, until I went to boarding school, and then I didn't see either of them very often. Chauffeurs would pick me up for school breaks and take me back again.”

Cosima's mouth turned up on one side. “You had chauffeurs.”

She remembered Cosima's stories about learning to drive in her father's station wagon, purchased before Cosima was born, and she sighed. “Yes, my mother had chauffeurs.”

“And your father?”

“When I saw him, he drove places himself, but I saw him, oh, maybe once a year by the time I was school aged. He'd ask me how school was going, and then he'd try to talk economics with me.” As an adult, the memories made her smile. “You know, it's funny. I used some of the things he taught me when we were investigating Neolution. It was nothing super important, nothing I couldn't have read about on Google, but I remembered him telling me how investment accounts worked, and tax brackets, and all of that.”

Cosima's smile spread to show her teeth. “I'm sure he'd be proud to know you put his lessons to good use. Maybe you could tell him some time.”

The bus inched forward a bit and some workmen got off, probably realizing it would be faster for them to walk wherever they were going. The day was cool, with a light breeze blowing through the bus's open windows. Delphine lifted Cosima's hand to her lips and kissed it. “What else would you like to know?”

Cosima snuggled closer and rested her head on Delphine's shoulder. “Oh, you know. Everything about you.” 

“Hmmm....” She giggled. “That's a lot.”

A small commotion broke out a few seats behind them, and they turned to see a young, massively pregnant woman grabbing on to the seat back in front of her, her face twisted in pain. People around her stepped back, shouting or gasping. A quick look at the floor showed why – her water had broken. 

“Oh, shit,” Cosima said. 

Delphine did a quick scan of the people near the woman; none of them seemed related to her. None were jumping to help or comfort her. They all looked confused, afraid, or even angry. 

“Why are you on the bus if you're this close to delivery?” one man shouted. Some other called for the driver to assist, but the driver only looked back at them, not moving from his seat. 

“Move,” Delphine told Cosima, and stepped past her to the woman in labor. In a soft voice, she introduced herself in Spanish and explained that she was a doctor. The woman said her name was Gabriela, and she wasn't due to deliver until next week. Delphine smiled at her and said, “Well, it looks like you're delivering today, instead.”

Meanwhile, the traffic had ground to a complete stop. Other passengers shouted to each other and the driver about ways to form an opening in the other cars, and two men got off to yell at other drivers to get out of the way because there was a woman in labor on the bus. Cosima hung back, staying near their bags until Delphine waved her over.

“Bring me my bag,” she said. “All of my bags.”

Fortunately, the other passengers recognized that she was taking charge and let Cosima through. When she got to Delphine and Gabriela and set the bags down, Cosima's face was a few shades paler than normal, and her eyes were wide.

“It's okay,” she told both of them with a smile. “I have done this before. Just not on a bus.” In fact, she reflected, her medical background was something Cosima knew plenty about already. 

She enlisted the help of a sturdy-looking older woman to help Gabriela into a leaning squat and had Cosima spread out some clean fabric from their shopping bags underneath her. To that, she added her own shirt, leaving herself in a tank top. _More clothes_ to buy tomorrow, she thought.

“We can use your shirt for the baby,” she told Cosima, who nodded, thin-lipped and still pale. 

The women on the bus teamed up to form a visual barrier around them, calling encouraging words to Gabriela and offering bottled water and handkerchiefs to Delphine and Cosima. Gabriela's contractions were about a minute apart, making Delphine wonder just how long she'd been in labor and, indeed, why the hell she'd gotten on the bus in the first place, but Gabriela seemed young, maybe not yet eighteen, so maybe she just had no idea what she was doing. 

“You're doing wonderfully,” she told her. “Is there anyone we can call for you?”

Gabriela shook her head, breaking Delphine's heart a little. Hopefully this girl had some support somewhere. She was wearing a skirt, which helped a lot, but also panties, which needed to come off. “Can you help me with these?” she asked her, careful not to overreach. Earlier in her life, before meeting Cosima, she might have just told Gabriela to remove them, or removed them herself without asking. _See? I am learning._

A wave of contractions hit, making Gabriela scream and grip the other woman's forearms. The bus driver heard and laid on the horn, adding his own shouts to get other drivers to move, and in a minute, the bus did drive a little bit forward, but no more than that. The motion of the bus did nothing for Gabriela's state of mind or physical comfort, and she began to sob. 

“It's okay,” Cosima whispered to her, rubbing her knee. “It's okay.” 

Looking at Cosima's face, though, Delphine wasn't sure who she was trying to reassure. It was surprising, that this woman who'd calmly autopsied her own clone, removed and dissected the brain of a dead Castor, and handled her former boss's decaying head, would be so squeamish around natural childbirth. There was no time to explore that here, however, as Gabriela screamed and writhed some more, her underwear now on the floor beneath her. With a gloved hand, Delphine estimated Gabriela's cervix was dilated about seven centimeters, and the baby would be there quite soon. She gave Gabriela her best smile even though her own knees were starting to ache. 

_Not as young as you used to be, Cormier,_ she told herself. 

“You're doing very well,” she told Gabriela. “Just keep breathing. That's right, hold her hand.” Another woman nearby took the new mother's hand and gave her a supportive smile of her own. 

The next contraction coincided with a small burst of movement from the bus, and Gabriela peed onto Delphine's hand as she reached to measure the cervix again. She smiled to reassure Gabriela that it was normal, but the poor girl hadn't even noticed. The last woman who's baby she'd helped with had pooped on her, she remembered, and this one probably would, too.

“It's good that we got all that hand sanitizer,” she told Cosima, who just nodded once and looked away again. 

When the crown of the baby's head appeared, the bus had advanced a block or so, and some men reported a bad car accident up ahead. Delphine wasn't concerned about that. This baby would be born here, on a city bus, and when it grew up it would likely get tired of hearing the story told again and again at every family gathering. That's what she told herself, at least, to distract from niggling fears of the umbilical cord being wrapped around its neck, or the cervix not dilating enough and the head being squished, or the mother bleeding to death before better equipped help could arrive, or all of the various ways babies and mothers had died during the childbirth in the course of human history. Cosima, for her part, just kept patting Gabriela's knee and flatly repeating, “You're doing just fine. Really good. Just keep it up.” Delphine wondered if Cosima even knew what she was saying anymore.

Eventually, with ever more encouraging words, some gentle guidance by Delphine's gloved hands, and a bit of poop from the mother, the baby's head emerged, no umbilical cord in sight. 

“Cosima, get ready to catch it. Use your shirt!”

“Okay, okay.” Cosima pulled off her T-shirt, revealing nothing more than a bra underneath, and gave it to Delphine. A quick thought came to Delphine then.

“You're only expecting one, right?” she asked Gabriela.

Through her sobs, Gabriela said yes, only one baby was expected. And then the baby was there, slipping out and onto Cosima's T-shirt. Beside her, Cosima gave a soft groan and turned away like she was going to vomit. 

“It's a girl!” Delphine exclaimed. She used the shirt to wipe the fluids off the baby and nudged Cosima to get the scissors from her medical bag, which Cosima did. In a few minutes, she had the baby wrapped in a hand towel given by another passenger and she handed it to Gabriela. “She's perfect,” she assured her over the baby's new cries. “You did a very good job!”

There were cheers then, as the news of the newborn girl travelled around the bus and even to surrounding cars who'd been stuck in traffic with them. One man passed around some cigarillos for everyone and another opened a bottle of tequila. Delphine delivered the placenta, then gathered up the soiled cloth and put it into a trash bag provided by the driver, who just shook his head at the whole ordeal. Once the worst of the filth was away and her gloves were off, she slathered her hands and arms in hand sanitizer and smiled over at Cosima. 

“Are you alright, chérie?” she asked.

“Me?”

“Yes.” Some other passengers offered them both their seats, clapping Delphine on the back as she sank into hers. One of them gave Cosima her own light jacket to wear. In English, Delphine spoke softly to Cosima. “You look unwell.”

Cosima shook her head. “No, I'm fine. Gabriela's the one to worry about, not me.” She must have realized she wasn't making eye contact, because she took a deep breath and turned to look Delphine in the eye, a little forcefully. “Seriously, don't worry about me right now.”

“Okay.” She squeezed her hand and nodded. If Cosima didn't want to be fussed over, she wouldn't fuss over her. 

It was another two hours before they got back to Julian and Martín's house, parting with Gabriela and her new baby after giving her the peso equivilent of $100 to help her get started with parenthood. By the time they reached the house, color was back in Cosima's cheeks and she was joking about Delphine's hands in another woman's vagina. 

“Please tell me that doesn't actually bother you,” she told Cosima as they approached the house, hand in hand.

“Oh, no, just teasing, babe.” She leaned over to kiss her jaw. “Beside, birth is, like, the least sexy thing on the planet. I'm kinda happy that you're never going to see me doing that.”

“You've never wanted to give birth?”

“Hell no. I'm perfectly fine being sterile, thank you very much.”

Delphine was going to point out that, since it was Cosima's uterus that prevented her becoming pregnant, her eggs could, hypothetically, be viable, so sterile might be the wrong word, but Julian appeared in front of the house before she could go there. They told him about the drama of the day, and Cosima laughed off her squeamishness as nerves. Both exhausted, they crawled into bed early, and Cosima wrapped an arm around Delphine's midsection.

“Well, I learned some new things about you today,” she said.

“Hm. You already knew I've delivered babies before. That wasn't news, I don't think.”

“No, I didn't mean that. Although, knowing you've done it before, and seeing you do it are drastically different things. But I was referring to what you told me about your family. I liked hearing about all that.”

Delphine kissed her softly and smiled. “Maybe I'll tell you more tomorrow, then.”

“I'd like that.” She yawned and nuzzled into Delphine's shoulder. Delphine knew she'd need to move before falling asleep, to avoid waking up without any feeling in her arm, but for now she held Cosima close, breathing in her scent and resting her chin against her forehead.


	4. Chapter 4

Delphine drifted awake as soft light filtered through the curtains in the guest room. For a moment she lay still, trying to retrieve snippets of her dream, mostly gone now. She'd been at a train station, and that was all she remembered. Beside her in bed, Cosima twitched, pulling Delphine more into wakefulness. 

“Nnnnn....” Cosima moaned, her eyes squeezed shut. For a moment Delphine thought she was awake, but Cosima breathed too deeply for wakefulness. Her head twitched again and she muttered, “Stop, stop...” 

It wasn't the first time she'd seen Cosima have a bad dream. She'd had a number of them since Delphine returned and Neolution fell, which made Delphine wonder how many times she'd woken from bad dreams before, with no one beside her. “Shhhh....” Delphine whispered. Her own hands sluggish, she reached to stroke Cosima's cheek. 

“No!” Cosima shouted, pulling away. 

That was different. Cosima talked in her sleep now and then, but normally a soft touch either calmed her or woke her up. This time she stayed fast asleep, rolling her head away from Delphine and groaning, her hands in fists. 

“Cosima,” she whispered. “Shhh, it's just a dream, chérie.” She took Cosima's shoulder and shook a little, but Cosima only groaned again.

“No, no, no no no ssssssss.......”

Her twitching reminded Delphine uncomfortably of a seizure, with Cosima unresponsive and not in control of her body, and for a moment she had the terrifying thought that maybe the disease had returned. Then she gave Cosima's shoulder a stronger shake, and Cosima gasped awake.

“ _Mon amour,_ ” Delphine whispered. “It's okay. Everything's okay now.”

Cosima stared up at the ceiling, her eyes wide, pulling deep breaths into her lungs. Delphine kept her hand on her shoulder, moving in slow circles as she watched Cosima's pulse hammer away at her temple. 

Cosima moaned and licked her lips a few times. “Wha...? It's...”

“It was just a dream, _mon amour_ , nothing more. I promise.”

Her breath and pulse slowed, and she blinked her eyes so slowly Delphine thought she was falling back asleep. Then she turned her head and looked at Delphine. “It was real,” she whispered. “I couldn't leave. It was real, and....”

“No.” Delphine kissed her eyebrows. “It wasn't real, chérie. It was just a dream.” She moved her hand from her shoulder to her torso to hold her close. “You can tell me about it, if you want to.”

“You were there,” Cosima whispered, like she was afraid to speak up. “You were in labor.”

The image made Delphine smile, despite the obvious fear in her girlfriend's voice. It made sense for Cosima's brain to do that to her, after witnessing Delphine deliver a baby the day before. “I was giving birth?”

“Uh huh. They had you on a bed, and, and...” She swallowed hard, trembling a little, so Delphine pulled her closer. “... and they held you down while you just screamed.”

That did sound a little traumatic. She kissed Cosima's forehead again. “What else?” 

“They wouldn't let me go to you, to help. One of them had this needle and he stuck it in your face. And... and the baby had this...” Cosima ran her hand over her own face a few times. 

“What did the baby have?”

“It had this giant hole, right here. And it was screaming too, and you were just sobbing, and I couldn't do anything. They were holding me back, and they said, I think, I don't know, I think maybe it was Evie Cho, or maybe it was Susan Duncan, I don't know, but they said it was my fault. They said I did this, it was all me.”

Not for the first time, the words “post-traumatic stress” came to Delphine's mind. Most them had it, those who'd been involved with the clones since the beginning, and been involved in taking down Neolution. They could all benefit from some time on a therapist's couch, but their current schedule meant Cosima wouldn't get that kind of help for some time, if she ever sought it out at all. Explaining to a therapist that she was a clone would be tricky enough without delving into the more traumatic events of her life recently. She held Cosima closer and pressed her lips to her hairline. “None of that was your fault, chérie. You know that.”

Cosima didn't answer, but held Delphine's arm against her body and kept breathing deeply. Outside the window a bird squawked, and the smell of coffee drifted through the gaps in the door. Delphine wanted to stay holding Cosima as long as she needed her to, but she desperately needed to pee. 

“I'll be right back,” she said, dropping another kiss on her face. “Stay comfortable.”

After she'd relieved herself and rinsed her face, she stood in the hallway and stretched. The clock in the kitchen read a few minutes after six, and the day ahead was easy. There was one woman left to cure, with an appointment at the clinic for 8:30 in the morning, so she and Cosima could relax for most of their last full day in Mexico City. She needed to buy more clothes, though. Again. At least the box of tampons had arrived from Toronto the day before, so they didn't have to hunt for those anymore.

Back in the bedroom, Cosima still lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling with a frown and one arm draped over her head. She seemed more awake now, but not completely back to reality. “It was real,” she said once Delphine closed the door behind her. “Parts of it really happened. The baby was real.”

“The baby with a hole in its face?”

“Yeah.”

Delphine crawled under the covers beside her and put her arm back in its place around Cosima's midsection. “Where was this baby?”

“Brightborn.”

“Hm.” She knew about them through her research into Neolution, and she'd heard that the clones had dug around there themselves when Delphine was stuck on the island, but Cosima had never mentioned it before. “Tell me about it.”

Cosima made a noncommittal noise and snuggled deeper into Delphine's embrace. “Pretty much what I already said. There was a baby born with a hole in its face. Like, it's entire face. No eyes, no nose, nothing but a giant hole. The mother came in on a gurney, screaming, and they held her down. The needle... I don't remember if the needle part actually happened or not, but they did not treat her like a person. She's was just, like, an animal they needed to hold down and deal with. When the baby was born they rushed it away. Apparently they euthanized it.”

 _Probably for the best_ , Delphine thought, but she didn't say that. It wasn't the time. “That's terrible,” she said. 

“Yeah, it was. I wonder about her, sometimes. The mother, I mean. I'd look her up, but...” She managed a partial shrug. “No idea who she even is.”

“Hm.” Delphine wanted to ask how she'd gotten far enough into the facility to see all that, but Cosima yawned, then reached over to slide her hand up Delphine's shirt, stopping just below her left breast. “Thankfully that's ancient history now. Brightborn imploded when news of the babies got out. I just have a hard time letting go sometimes.”

“That's okay. I know what that's like.”

“I know. I kind of wish you didn't. For your sake, I mean.”

Delphine had nightmares, too, that she did not always share with Cosima in detail. Many of them involved Cosima either dying or being taken away from her, but sometimes they didn't. Last month she'd dreamt of Leekie, of his cold hands on her body, his voice in her ear and his breath in her mouth. Since everything that happened with Neolution, too, she found paranoia slipping into her everyday life, even though she knew it was ridiculous. One evening in Rio de Janeiro, after a delightful dinner with a local doctor, they'd been walking through a parking garage to his car when footsteps sounded behind them and Delphine almost jumped out of her skin. Cosima had gently taken her aside to calm her down for a few minutes while their companion waited at the car.

Cosima shuffled into the bathroom next, and Delphine joined Julian for some breakfast. She still smiled whenever she saw the counter and the little stool where Cosima had gone down (or was it up?) on her their first morning here, and she felt a twinge of regret that she hadn't yet returned the favor. There was still time, she thought. 

“ _Bonjour, mademoiselle_ ,” Julian said as she slipped into a chair. 

“ _Bonjour_ ,” she replied. It was still rather chilly here, and she wrapped a small travel blanket around her shoulders. It would be much, much colder in Toronto, of course, but at least they had central heating there.

Julian got a plate of fruit and soft bread together for her, and cocked his head when he heard the shower turn on down the hall. “She's not what I expected,” he said. 

“ _Non?_ ”

“ _Non_. I mean that in the best way, though.” He set the plate and a cup of coffee in front of her and sat across the table from her. “She's not like anyone else you've dated, or anyone that I've seen you date, and not only because she's female. When you said you had a girlfriend, I pictured, oh, some perfectly-coiffed power lesbian. Or maybe, I don't know, the captain of a women's soccer team or something. Someone super ambitious, like you.”

“Cosima is ambitious.” She sipped the coffee, noting that Julian made it weaker than she did. 

“She might be, but not the way I mean. Of course I've only known her a few days now, but I think she's not like that. I don't think she seeks power, or fame, not at all. I could be wrong, of course.” He held up his hands to show his willingness to accept censure.

Delphine popped a chunk of pineapple into her mouth and thought about it. He was right. It was Cosima's ideas that were ambitious, not her, not her self. Delphine thought of the cure, developed and manufactured by Cosima and under her leadership, but whenever it came up, Cosima deferred to everyone else who'd helped her make it. _They don't put scientists on the cover of Scientific American,_ she remembered. “Maybe you're right,” she told Julian. “But I like that about her.”

He smiled at her. “I do, too. But really, I like her because you do. I like the effect she has on you.”

She felt herself blushing. “What effect is that?”

“You're relaxed. I've never seen you this relaxed around a lover. You prop your feet on her lap, you tease her, she teases you and you laugh. She makes you happy, in other words.”

The blushing spread through her face to her neck and chest, her heart glowing. “Yes, she does,” she said.

* *

The morning's inoculation went according to plan and she left a nice card with some money for the staff of the clinic as thanks for letting her use it. Afterwards, she bought herself a few more articles of clothing, enough to get her through the week, and a small suitcase to replace the lost one. She'd get a bigger one back in Toronto, to use on the next major leg of their trip. There were still a few people left to buy Christmas gifts for, so she did a bit of window shopping in an upscale open-air market before heading back to Julian's house. She picked up an aquamarine scarf for Adele and a set of fancy fountain pens for Scott. They hadn't bought any gifts for Sarah yet, and as she browsed she realized she didn't know Sarah well enough to know what she might like. She was considering buying a nice watch for Charlotte when a necklace display caught her eye. There, on a delicate silver chain, was a nautilus shell, spiraling in silver filigree, about three centimeters in diameter. Delphine bought it without even looking at the price. She'd bought a number of gifts for Cosima already, all purchased online and sent to the Rabbit Hole, and she had plans to buy more at a particular store in Toronto, but one did not pass up such perfect gifts when they appeared. Especially not when such a perfect gift was for the love of her life. The clerk wrapped it in paper and she tucked it into the bottom of her purse.

Back at Julian's house, she let herself in with the spare key and found Cosima in the kitchen, beating the hell out of a bowl of avocado. She wore a loose sweater and stretchy pants, perfect comfort-wear for lounging around the house, except Delphine was certain she'd worn it outside to buy the avocados. Cosima seemed much more relaxed than she had several hours prior, when the remnants of her dream still pulled the at muscles of her face.

“Is that lunch?” she asked, kissing Cosima's cheek and tasting a bit of a lime juice there.

“Yes! I've wanted to make this the entire time we've been here. You're gonna love it.”

The lunch was light, with guacamole, cold leftover chicken, and pico de gallo, and they ate it on Julian's back porch, blue sky overhead. Delphine showed Cosima her purchases, excluding the necklace, of course. 

“Speaking of presents,” Cosima said, “You still haven't told me what you want.”

“What? Yes, I have.” After much prodding from Cosima over the past few weeks, she'd wracked her brain for a gift idea, settling on a gift certificate for a 90 minute massage from a place she liked in Toronto. 

Cosima stood from her chair, only to walk over to Delphine and straddle her lap. “Okay, you've told me, like, one thing. Which, by the way, I won't be able to see you enjoy unless I get a massage with you, and even then I won't be able to see you because I'll be face down as well.”

“Maybe they'll let you just watch.”

She sighed. “Maybe. I could watch you moan while someone else rubs their hands all over you. I don't think you can relax very well if I'm just staring at you the whole time, though, and you know I won't be able to keep my mouth shut.” 

The thought made her laugh, and she rubbed Cosima's back through her sweater. “True. But I really can't think of anything else I want. Even the massage, it's not something I really want so badly, it would just be nice after so much traveling, I think.”

“Oh, I agree.” Cosima had her arms around Delphine's neck, but she moved one hand to massage the spot where her neck met her left shoulder, where she knew Delphine carried a lot of tension. “I just want to, like, spoil the hell out of you. I want to give you all the things you want.”

Delphine moaned into the side of Cosima's neck, the shoulder rub rendering her speech faculties fuzzy. Her hands dropped from Cosima's back to her hips, hands resting lightly against her backside. “All I really want is you, chérie. You know that.”

Cosima dug a knuckle into Delphine's trapezius, making her moan again. “Yes,” Cosima said, her voice teasing, “but how do you want me? That's the question.” When Delphine didn't answer, Cosima pulled her hands away and tried to lean back, but Delphine caught her before she could, pouting at the loss of contact.

“Like this, only fewer clothes.” She pushed her hands up Cosima's back, underneath her sweater, and pulled her in for a kiss. It was true, all of it. She couldn't think of objects or even experiences she wanted enough to ask for, because the only thing she ever really wanted was Cosima, in her arms, in her life, happy and healthy. After several moments of breathing each other in, she pulled back enough to see Cosima's face. “And inside, somewhere comfortable.”

“Mmm... how comfortable are we talking, Dr. Cormier?”

She swatted her backside. “Not so comfortable you fall asleep. Just something better than a lawn chair out in the open."

“You've never want to have sex outside?”

“No.”

Cosima flashed her canines at her as she climbed off and sauntered into the house. “We'll see if I can't change your mind about that one of these days.”

By the time Delphine carried their dishes inside and got to the bedroom, Cosima was laying naked on the bed, propped on her elbows and reading text messages on her phone. Delphine lingered a moment in the doorway to admire the curves of her ass, slowing unbuttoning her own shirt as she looked.

“The sestras all wanna know what you want for Christmas, too,” Cosima said. “Alison's asked me, like, five times already.”

Delphine finished unbuttoning her shirt and dropped in onto the desk. “That sounds dreadful for you, but honestly, Alison is not the clone I'm the most interested in right now.” Before Cosima could respond, she reached over and gave her left ass cheek a satisfying slap.

“Oh, shit!” Grinning, Cosima threw her phone onto the pile of clothes next to her side of the bed, put her glasses on the bedside table, and then tucked her face into her folded arms, facing Delphine. “I love where this is going.”

“You want some more?”

“Yes, please.” Cosima's tone softened and she wriggled a little bit on the bed. 

Just seeing her this way made Delphine's knees weak, but she stayed standing, unhooking her bra and placing in on the desk beside her shirt. They had the entire afternoon to themselves, and she'd be damned if she wasn't going to take full advantage of it. “How much do you want it?” she asked.

The muscles in Cosima's torso and buttocks writhed. “Enough to do just about anything you ask me to do.”

“I see...” She pulled off her pants and lay them aside in a similar fashion, but kept her underwear on. They were not special, but she was on her period, and even with a wonderful Canadian tampon in, she still felt self-conscious about being completely nude this time of the month. Besides, hadn't Cosima just told her the other day that she liked it when Delphine kept her panties on? 

Cosima had left her bath towel draped over the desk chair, and now Delphine folded it into a rectangle and gestured for Cosima to raise her ass a few inches, which Cosima was only too happy to do. Once the towel was in place, Delphine gave her another smack, on the right cheek this time, grinning at Cosima's gasping moan. 

“You know you're sitting on a plane tomorrow,” she cautioned. 

“Yeah, for, like, an hour and a half. It's fine, I promise.”

“Mmhmm.” She massaged the left cheek, loving the way it made Cosima squirm around before she smacked her again. Her hand was starting to sting a bit, though, so she stepped away to pull her hair back. The first time they'd dated, before Dyad sent Delphine to Frankfurt and then eventually had her shot, Delphine owned various implements for spanking Cosima, but all of that was gone now, along with her old apartment and all of her belongings. She didn't even have a belt anymore, since her luggage was gone, too.

“You really are gonna tease me all fucking afternoon, aren't you?” Cosima whined.

“Maybe.” She spanked her a couple more times, using each hand on each cheek, her own arousal building each time Cosima moaned into her arms and bucked her hips against the towel. Then she dipped her hand between Cosima's legs and drew it up again quickly, getting enough moisture on her fingers to smear it across Cosima's bright red backside. “I can't tease you as long as I'd like, though,” she said. “Not if you want my hands to do anything else today.”

“Nnnggg, that's okay.” Cosima rolled over with a smile. “And I definitely want your hands to do other things. The sooner the better, really.”

Delphine gave herself time to run her eyes over Cosima's naked front, from her thighs to her navel to her breasts, before dipping her head to lick along the inside of her right thigh. Cosima did smell different now, either because she was well or because of some other reason, but since they'd gotten back together Cosima's arousal was less earthy and more fruity. Delphine occasionally thought the topic might make a nice little conference paper somewhere, but she always got distracted before getting too far with that idea. 

She didn't stay down there for long this time. She needed to see Cosima come, to watch her face as she lost control and the universe exploded inside of her, so she crawled up the length of her body, pausing only to give each nipple a teasing lick, and ending with her tongue in Cosima's mouth. 

In a different place, with different tools at her disposal, she could have dragged Cosima along for hours. She'd thought about it this time, too, but once her body was pressed against Cosima's, her fingers snug and hot inside of her, with Cosima's leg pressing up against her clit, the speed of things slipped out of her control. Cosima dug her fingers against her scalp, her neck, her back, grabbing her arm to give more force to her thrusts and keep her from stopping, and her mouth whispered a mixture of love and fuck and sexy and gorgeous against her neck. With that, it was a miracle that Delphine didn't come first, but it was close. She pulled back to watch Cosima cry out when she came, and her own orgasm came moments later, rubbed against Cosima's thigh and groaned wordlessly into her forehead. 

She peeled herself from Cosima's body with a squelch that made her giggle, but Cosima kept her arms around her. “No,” Cosima whispered, “no, stay here.”

“I'm still here, _amour_ ,” she said. “Just adjusting.”

Cosima buried her face into her shoulder, and as their breathing slowed, Delphine felt dampness spreading across her skin. 

“Chérie?” she whispered. “Shh, it's okay. It's okay.” Her own amusement vanished and she held Cosima closer, ignoring her body's desire for rest in order to comfort her. Cosima rarely cried after sex; the last time she had was just after Delphine's return from Geneva, when Neolution was still alive and kicking, and there was no guarantee of their own survival.

Cosima's tears did not turn to sobs, but spilled out quietly onto Delphine's skin. When the flow of tears subsided, Delphine kissed her eyes and cheeks and cupped her face in one hand. “What's wrong, chérie?” She knew that she hadn't hurt her any, at least not physically, but she hated thinking that something she did may have been the cause of her tears. 

Cosima smiled damply and wiped her face with the back of one hand. “Just getting a little emotional. That's all.”

“Hmm.” She stroked the soft skin behind Cosima's ear. “That's all?”

“Yeah. Believe it or not, you tend to bring out some pretty strong feelings in me.” 

“I believe it, but I'd rather they were happy feelings. I never want to make you cry.” _Not again_ , she thought. _Never again_. 

Cosima wrapped an arm around Delphine's stomach and curled her body to rest her face against Delphine's breasts. They lay together like that for some time, listening to the movement of each other's bodies and cooling down from their orgasms. Delphine thought she may have fallen asleep, but then Cosima took a deep breath and said, “I just want to be with you. Like, for as long as you'll have me. I'd stay with you for the rest of my life if you let me.”

Delphine's fingers stilled on the back of Cosima's neck and she closed her eyes. “I want that, too.”

Cosima opened her mouth a few more times like she had more to say, but no more words came out. Instead, she kissed Delphine's stomach, her scar, her navel, the outline of her rib cage. 

“ _Je t'aime_ , Cosima.”

When she looked back up, Cosima had more tears in her eyes, but she smiled. “I love you, too. I love you so goddamn much.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Julian wants to know if we'll join them for drinks in an hour or so.”

Cosima looked over at Delphine, propped up on pillows in the bed. Drinks sounded fun, even if Julian could be a bit much sometimes, and it could be a good chance to learn more about Delphine. But. “I'm Skyping with Charlotte tonight,” she said. “I don't really wanna push that off.”

“Oh, that's right.” Delphine pushed her hair back and typed a reply to Julian. She was mostly under the covers, still naked except for her underwear. They had spent most of the afternoon in bed together, mostly cuddling and dozing but also talking about their upcoming trip to Monterrey and what they wanted to do when they got back to Toronto. There would be Christmas festivities, of course, and meeting Cosima's parents, but there was also Gemma's birthday just after New Year's, and Cosima would have a lot to do for her dissertation. 

Cosima set up her laptop on the desk in the bedroom a few minutes before eight pm, making sure there was no underwear lying around where the camera might catch it. Delphine was back in the bed, propped up on all of the pillows and updating their clone notebooks and wearing another one of Cosima's shirts. 

While she waited for Sarah to Skype her, Cosima checked her email. There was another from her parents, confirming travel details for their trip to Toronto in about a week, and one from her advisor in Minnesota. They'd set up a meeting in January, on campus, but he kept not-so-subtly suggesting that her work would be going better if she, like, stayed in Minnesota to finish it. 

Normally, when she had her Skype dates with Charlotte, Sarah would appear first and they'd update each other on any pressing bits of news, but tonight Charlotte's face came up first. Her hair was down, as she wore it more often these days, and damp like she'd just showered. She'd had a growth spurt in the past several months, making her look stretched out and gangly. _She'll be as tall as the rest of us within a year_ , Cosima thought with a slight pang. _Hell, she might even get a little bit taller_. Charlotte wore one of Sarah's old shirts, though Cosima was willing to bet that Charlotte hadn't been the one who cut the sleeves off.

“I didn't know you liked the Clash,” Cosima said. 

Charlotte looked confused, then looked down at the shirt. “I don't. Do you know where Rachel is?”

“Rachel... Duncan? No, I don't know where she is. Why?”

On the screen, Charlotte deflated a little bit. “Does Delphine know where she is?”

“Uh, Delphine and I know the same things, so...” Just to be sure, she turned to her girlfriend on the bed behind her, who shook her head. “Yeah, neither of us knows where Rachel is. Do you need her for something?”

“No.” Charlotte looked down at the keyboard and picked at something there. 

“Well, you must've asked for a reason. What's up?”

There was a long pause before Charlotte gave a dramatic sigh. “I just want to send her a Christmas card. It's not a big deal.”

Unable to help herself, Cosima grinned. “That's so sweet! I'm sure she'd like a Christmas card from you.”

Charlotte shrugged. “She probably doesn't remember me.”

“Aw, what makes you say that?” She knew that Charlotte had spent a lot of time with Rachel on the island, while Rachel recovered from her aphasia, before Cosima showed up. 

Another shrug. “She's never done anything to show that she remembers me. I know she's been here a few times since we've been back, but she never sees me.”

 _Since we've been back_. Since she and Cosima had stolen the boat and snuck back onto the mainland, some time ago. “Well, I know Rachel was pretty busy earlier, and...”

“Felix says she doesn't want anyone to find her.”

“Right, yeah. That's what I heard, too.”

Charlotte started picking at a spot on her cheek, not looking up, and Cosima wanted to reach through the screen to give her a hug. Out of all of them, Charlotte rivaled only Helena in the extent of her orphanness. Sarah had bounced around as a young child, but eventually settled with Siobhan and stayed there, forming a strong family bond. Alison, Cosima, and Beth all had parents who, while not perfect, were still always their parents. Charlotte had spent ten years with Marion Bowles, who'd been frequently absent and was now presumed dead, followed by a series of guardians that included a complete stranger and clone sisters with a mess of their own issues. Cosima didn't even know where to start.

“If we ever see or talk to her, I promise to tell her that you're thinking of her,” Cosima said. “Okay?”

Charlotte nodded. The spot on cheek bled now, making Charlotte frown down at her fingernails like they'd done the damage all on their own. 

“You wanna go wash that?” Cosima suggested.

Charlotte's mouth scrunched up in such a Leda way that Cosima was both amused and embarrassed. “No,” Charlotte said. “It's fine. Are you still going to teach me to swim?”

“Teach you...?”

“You said you'd teach me how to swim.”

Cosima wracked her brain until finally landing on a shred of a memory, of Charlotte in a life jacket and winter hat, on a little boat with no land in sight, worrying that she couldn't swim. “Yeah, of course I'll still teach you how to swim. You don't have to wait for me to get back, though. I'm sure Sarah or Alison could find you some lessons...”

“You said _you'd_ teach me.”

A small noise behind her made Cosima turn. Delphine sat on the bed with one hand over her mouth, obviously amused and trying not to intrude. Facing Charlotte again, she said, “Well, I'm still happy to teach you if you want. We'll find a pool close to Sarah's and get you some basics before Gemma's party, yeah?”

Charlotte's face remained scrunched, but she said, “Yeah, okay, I guess.”

“You don't believe me?”

She didn't answer, but found a different spot on her face to pick at. In the background, Sarah and Kira were arguing about some television show that Sarah found “inappropriate.” Cosima wasn't going anywhere near that conversation.

“What'd you learn in school today?” she asked, steering them back to their usual topic. From everything that Sarah, and Charlotte herself, reported, Charlotte was excelling academically, but struggling socially. She'd never been in traditional classrooms before this year, never had to deal with her own peers in this kind of environment. Aisha, back at Revival, had been her first same-age friend. During their Skype chats, Cosima tried convincing her that she could learn as much from her classmates as she did from books or lectures, but it was a tough sell.

Charlotte's face relaxed a little bit, which Cosima took as a good sign. “Jennifer has games on her calculator that she put there herself. She said she put in a code.”

Cosima had been amazed, early in their Skype routine, to learn that Charlotte was at a high enough math level to be using a graphing calculator in the seventh grade. Now she smiled. “Yeah, that's a pretty cool trick. Did she show you how to code your own?”

“No. She acted like it was super easy, like everyone knew how to do it.”

“And you didn't want to ask her about it.” This was also a pattern in Charlotte's peer interactions. As well educated as Charlotte was, her classmates knew a lot of things that Charlotte was clueless about, and she was too shy or embarrassed to ask them to explain. “Maybe Scott can show you how to do that for your own calculator. I don't remember exactly how to do it, but he probably does.”

They talked a bit more about Charlotte's classes, a history project she had to finish that week, and her after-school chess club. Charlotte's mood improved noticeably by the end of their conversation, when she took out the heavy world atlas she'd found tucked in the back of a bookshelf at Siobhan's house and now used to track Cosima and Delphine's progress through the world. Sarah was only half joking when she suggested that Charlotte (and Kira, who helped with the project) could join a geography bee after all the Ledas were cured. 

“You're here right now,” she said, placing a translucent yellow sticker over Mexico City. “Where are you going next?”

“Monterrey. Tell me where that is.”

“That's up here.” Charlotte tapped the city on the map of Mexico. “Are you flying?”

“Yes. It would take, like, all day by bus.”

Charlotte didn't put a sticker there yet. She would do so once they were in the city and not before. 

* *

The next day, after spending longer than they wanted dealing with the airport, Cosima and Delphine arrived in Monterrey and took a cab to the bed and breakfast that Alison had reserved, albeit reluctantly, for them. 

“What's wrong with a regular hotel?” Alison had asked when she heard about their plans.

“Nothing. Delphine's friend recommends this place, though, and apparently there's a discount for recommendations.”

“A discount for whom? You, or Delphine's friend?”

“Both of us. All of us.”

After finally getting Alison to agree that the B&B would be fine for two nights, Cosima suggested to Delphine that maybe they leave Alison out of the travel planning process for the next leg of their trip. 

“I can do it all myself,” Cosima said. “Alison's great, but I think we both know that it's better done by someone on the ground, who can make decisions immediately.”

“Mhm.” Delphine nodded. “But then Alison will feel left out.”

Cosima told herself she'd broach the subject with Alison in person once they got back, after Christmas. 

The bed and breakfast was lovely, owned by a French couple who'd met at the university there and fallen in love with each other and the location. The building was an old colonial style house with lush gardens and a peacock who strutted around as Cosima and Delphine approached. Within minutes of signing in, Delphine had struck up a lively conversation in French with Marie, one of the owners. Cosima's French was very slowly improving, but she still missed most of the conversation until Delphine gestured dramatically at their luggage and Marie responded with “putain!” 

_So she knows Delphine lost her luggage._ Cosima thought. _At least I've got that much._ She would focus on French more when she wasn't listening and speaking Spanish every day, so that, hopefully, she wouldn't look like too much of a fool when Delphine took her to France in late April. 

Behind the check-in counter, a baby started to cry, so Marie excused herself to tend to it. A moment later, she re-emerged with a little bundle draped against her shoulder, its tiny little hand waving around. Marie tried to apologize, but Delphine's whole face broke into a smile. From a safe distance, Cosima watched her girlfriend coo over the baby, whose name was Marguerite, but who got called everything from Margot to Rita in the course of five minutes. Cosima didn't know very much about human infants, but by her guess this baby's age was somewhere close to 0, since she lacked the ability to hold up her own head and Delphine supported her easily with one arm. 

“Cosima, come look!” And Delphine was so, so happy with this baby, the way she'd been happy with Helena's twins back home. Her face just glowed, showing her dimples off for everyone. 

Cosima looked at the baby's head, nestled in the crook of Delphine's arm, and for a moment imagined that it was Delphine's own child there, just to gauge her own emotional reaction. The results were mixed, a strange combination of boundless love and desperate terror. She looked up at Delphine again. “She's so little,” she managed. 

“Yes, she's only a few weeks old. She's brand new.”

“You want to hold her?” Marie asked, and laughed when Cosima backed up so fast she knocked over the umbrella stand. 

“No, I'm, I'm good.”

Delphine said something in French that probably translated to, “Cosima's afraid of infants” or “Cosima ovulates sand and would rather cuddle a lizard.” But she was smiling and her eyes were shining and, in that moment, if Delphine had asked for a baby, Cosima would've done anything to give her one.

When they finally settled into their room, baby Marguerite safely back with her mother, Cosima wrapped her arms around Delphine's waist and nuzzled the back of her neck. She'd thought about leading into the subject gently. Instead, she just asked, “Do you want kids? I mean, like, ever?”

She felt Delphine's laughter before she heard it. “Did it look like I did? Down there?”

“I dunno. Maybe. It made me curious.”

“Hm.” Delphine finished getting her night time things from her bag and turned around in Cosima's arms, leaning back against the dresser. “I don't want kids right now. But some day? Maybe.” She cupped Cosima's face in her hands and stroked her earlobes. “I've never craved them, you know, the way some women do, but I like them. I like babies.”

“I can tell.” 

“I always expected that I would have them, I think. When I was much younger, I expected that I would wind up with some man and we would have children together, but that was always a vague sort of mental picture. I certainly never met any man that I wanted to have children with. I was always very careful to avoid any, ehm, accidents, when I slept with men.”

Cosima hummed and nuzzled her cheek with the side of her face. “Not much chance of that now. Accidental pregnancy, I mean.”

Delphine kissed her cheekbone. “No. No chance. It's good, though. I really don't miss worrying about that.”

For a moment, Cosima let herself wonder what it would be like to be able to get Delphine pregnant. Would she want to? Before she got far with that train of thought, Delphine nipped her ear and started rubbing the back of her neck.

“What about you? I know you're not crazy about babies, but you're very good with children. Do you want them for yourself?”

She hadn't seen her face when she asked the question, so Cosima tried deciphering the tone of her voice. It was gentle, curious, not presumptive. “I've never wanted them before,” she said. “That doesn't mean I want them now, but...”

“But?”

“I never even thought about it before this year. It's not like it's really been an option, you know?”

She pulled out of Delphine's embrace to change into her shorts and T-shirt for sleeping. For some reason, she needed to distance herself from Delphine for a moment, to protect her own sanity in case Delphine said.... said what? If Delphine wanted children, was that really so frightening?

“Why not?” Delphine asked. “Just because you can't carry them yourself doesn't mean you can't be a parent.”

“Well, yeah, I know that. That's not the only reason. I mean, I haven't really been in a position where I could... parent. In any capacity. It's hard enough taking care of myself sometimes.”

Delphine cocked her head and watched her finished getting dressed. “Do you think you're in a position now? To parent, I mean?”

“Like, right now?” It was her turn to laugh now. “Hell, no. We're not even in one place for more than a week.”

Delphine smiled at her, her eyes narrowed, and Cosima realized she'd answered a question addressed only to her with a reply that included both of them. She wasn't about to amend it. Whatever her future held, children or no children, she wanted it to include Delphine. She took Delphine's hand and pulled her to the bed, and drew the duvet over them both.

“So you said you might want kids. Would you be upset if you never got pregnant?” she asked her. “If you never had a baby of your own to cuddle and coo over?”

Delphine pursed her lips. “Upset? No, I don't think so. Perhaps a little disappointed, but not upset. It would be like, if you told me that I'll never see the pyramids in Egypt. I'd like to see them, and I'd be disappointed if you told me I never will, but it would be okay.”

“Okay, well, first of all, we're going to Egypt, like, next year to cure the two Ledas who live there, so we can totally see the pyramids while we're there. More importantly, though, pregnancy is a lot different than visiting a foreign country. A lot more life-changing, I think.”

“Yes, but what I'm saying is that right now they're at about the same level of personal importance. And we might not see the pyramids! Who knows, maybe our schedule won't allow it, or there could be some political strife that keeps us away. Anything could happen.”

“Yes. Anything but accidental pregnancy.”

Delphine giggled. She held Cosima's hand in hers, playing with her fingers and kissing the knuckles softly. “And how would you feel if I never got pregnant?”

The question caught her off guard. “If _you_ never did? It's your body, love, it's not my place to say. That's your decision.”

Delphine's eyes sparkled when she looked at Cosima now. “In the end, yes, but I want to know your feelings. Let me ask another way. How would feel if I _did_ get pregnant?”

“I guess that would depend on how it happened. Are we talking about a quick fling with some Egyptian guy in a pyramid when you're off your birth control, or are we talking, like, a visit to a fertility clinic, and a sperm donor?”

Delphine laughed again, perhaps at the image of random pyramid sex. “The second one, I think. As handsome as I'm sure Egyptian men are, the only person I want to have sex with is you.”

Her tone was light, but the seriousness of the topic made Cosima's voice heavy. She'd wondered about this before, especially whenever Delphine gushed over Helena's boys, but she needed to know now, exactly how compatible she and Delphine were on this issue. She needed to know, and she was terrified about the answer, so she stalled. “How would I feel about you getting pregnant via IVF? I... I mean, do you want to?”

“Cosima, I asked you what you wanted. This is all hypothetical right now. We're not making any decisions. I'm not going to get pregnant any time soon, no matter what else happens. I just want to know your feelings.”

 _My feelings don't matter here_ , she thought. _Tell me what you want, and I'll try to follow along._ She'd never talked to any other girlfriends about having children together. She rubbed her hand over Delphine's stomach, flat and baby-free. “It's your body, babe. It's your decision if you want to carry a child, not mine.”

Delphine searched her face, her own expression difficult for Cosima to read. _Maybe I'm not ready to see what's there_ , she thought. _Because she probably does want a baby, and she wants me to say I'd be happy with that._

“Look. If you got pregnant,” she said, “if you had a baby because you wanted one, and it made you happy, I would be happy for you. Does that answer your question?”

The frown tugging the corners of Delphine's mouth said that it did not. “I'd only want a baby if you were there to support me,” she said after a while. “If you were there to....”

To raise it with you? Cosima couldn't bring herself to finish Delphine's sentence for her. Instead she kissed her lips, holding her pouty lower lip between hers for a moment. “I told you before, I always want to be there for you. That goes for all this, too. If you want to get pregnant, some day, in the future, once all this clone stuff is over, I will be there. Maybe even with bells on. However -” Cosima pushed herself up onto her elbows to establish her point. “-can we both agree to keep any potential babies, like, at least a few years down the road?”

Delphine agreed with a smile. Toying with one of Cosima's dangling dreadlocks, she said, “I think so. But you brought it up.”

“Yes, I did.”

“And I think it's bothering you.”

She sighed and stroked Delphine's stomach some more. “Maybe it is. I just want to make sure you... that neither one of us feels like we're not getting what we want out of life.”

Delphine's eye brows rose. “I'm getting more out of life than I ever expected to. Anything else, any potential, hypothetical children would be... I don't know. I have a hard time imagining what that would even be like. But I am very open to the idea.”

 _Open to the idea._ Cosima nodded. “Okay.”

“Are you?”

“Am I open to the idea of parenting? I am terrified of the idea of parenting.” She laughed despite herself. “But, yeah, I guess I could be open to it if, like, the circumstances were right.”

“What circumstances would you need?”

“Well, first of all, not moving all the time. Finishing my dissertation, getting a good job that I love...” The rest of the thought, the part where she wanted to marry Delphine first, she left unsaid, for now. 

“Those things will happen,” Delphine said. “Not this year, maybe not next year, but soon enough.”

“Yeah.”

“And when they do, we can talk about what we'll do next.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's probably worth noting that I haven't read the Classified Clone Reports, so Delphine's backstory will not fit with whatever the book has for her. It's just my own head canon.

Cosima listened to Delphine's breath, heavy with sleep. She'd dozed on the short plane trip to Monterrey, and now, unable to sleep, her brain kept circling around the same topics. Her life with Delphine. The remaining Ledas. Charlotte. Her dissertation. Her life with Delphine. Charlotte. Babies. Her dissertation.

Beside her, Delphine whimpered, then turned herself over and began to snore. Cosima watched her shoulder blades rise and fall with each breath. The day before, while Delphine had been out at the clinic, Cosima'd gotten a text from Sarah, asking simply, “Have you asked her yet?” She hadn't responded, because the answer was no. She'd been on the verge of asking countless times, even just asking Delphine how she felt about marriage in general, as an institution or a concept, but her tongue froze up every time. 

_She might say no. She might say she doesn't want that. She turned Jérôme down for a reason._

If she did say no, Cosima told herself that would be fine. They didn't have to be married to be happy together. Marriage was a bit of an outdated institution anyway; Cosima had always thought so. It was about legal rights and semantics, nothing more. 

_But aren't legal rights and semantics things that you want?_

Cosima rolled over onto her back and looked up at the ceiling. Semantics. Like calling Delphine her _fiancée_ , and then her _wife_ , instead of her girlfriend. She spent a moment trying to remember if the correct spelling was _fiancée_ or _fiance_ , and whether it needed any accent marks. She almost made a note to ask Delphine in the morning, but decided to just Google it instead. If and when she asked Delphine to marry her, she wouldn't use French grammar as her segue. 

**

When she woke in the morning, Cosima was alone in the bed, and the sun filtered into the room through the gauze curtains. Delphine's side of the bed was cold, but rumpled and already decorated with a few strands of blonde hair. 

Downstairs in the spacious dining room, she found Delphine sitting at a table near a window that overlooked the courtyard. Cosima only saw the back of her as she approached, but when she rounded the table to sit down, she saw the baby, Marguerite, asleep and tucked into the crook of Delphine's arm. The baby's mother flitted from table to table, making sure her guests were happy and making small conversation while a pair of locals poured the coffee and served food. 

“She's natural with babies, isn't she?”

Cosima turned to see Marie pointing to Delphine. Delphine blushed and waved the compliment away with her free hand. 

“It's easy when she's this small. All she needs is food and someone to hold her, a clean diaper, and she's happy.”

Delphine looked pretty happy herself, Cosima thought. She kept looking down into Marguerite's sleeping face and making little cooing noises, and stroking the baby's cheek after each sip of coffee. She was like this with Helena's boys, too, especially when they were sleeping, but it was rare that Delphine got quite this much time with either of the twins before Helena or some other member of clone club swept in and wanted to hold the babies, too. 

“You are smitten,” Cosima said. “Maybe I should be worried that you'll try to smuggle her back to Canada with us.”

Delphine laughed, but before she could respond, there was a loud crash that made everyone jump. On the other side of the dining room, a small boy was trying to climb onto a side table, knocking down a tea set and some silverware in the process. Marie let loose a string of French and rushed over. She grabbed the boy by one arm and pulled him away, but he kept the table cloth in his other hand and shrieked. He kicked out at Marie with both feet, oblivious to the guests trying to enjoy their breakfasts behind him. Marie called for her husband, who came and scooped the little boy under one arm and carried him off with an apology to the room at large, leaving Marie to clean up the mess. The whole ordeal lasted no more than two minutes.

Cosima took a big drink of coffee and watched. “You sure you want kids some day?” she asked Delphine.

“I never said I was sure. I said I might.”

“Yeah.... `cause after they're cute and little like that-” She pointed to Marguerite, then to the mess her older brother left behind. “-they turn into that.”

“Yes. And then they grow some more and become children like Charlotte or Kira. No phase lasts forever.”

Cosima imagined living with a toddler who pulled down tablecloths. It was harder than imagining having a baby, but having a baby meant having a toddler not long after. In Delphine's arms, the baby stirred, whimpering and squirming a bit before opening her gummy little mouth and squalling. Delphine bounced her gently and cooed some more, but she kept crying until Marie returned, her own hair coming loose. 

“I'm so sorry about all this,” she said. “Denis was supposed to watch Teddy, but, well. Excuse me.” She draped Marguerite against her shoulder and went off to change or feed her. 

Cosima watched her go, glad she wasn't the one responsible for either child. To Delphine, she said, “When you meet my parents, I'm sure they'll tell you about how terrible I was as a child. Apparently, I'd throw my pacifier out of my crib, scream until someone gave it back to me, then throw it out again once they'd left the room. They finally just put me on the floor. There's a picture of me lying on my stomach, just passed the fuck out on a blanket on the floor, one pacifier in my mouth and one in each hand.” 

Delphine smiled at the story, but her eyes were focused somewhere else. She nursed her half-finished coffee, taking little sips and resting the mug against her lips. “You know,” she said softly after a moment, “my mother never wanted children.”

There was a sad note in Delphine's voice, so Cosima scooted her chair closer. “No?”

“No. I was an accident.”

“A happy accident, though?”

Delphine almost laughed. “She's never used those words, no. She says she got sloppy with her birth control, and she learned her lesson.”

Many months ago, after Helena's boys were born, Sarah and Helena together explained to Kira exactly where Helena's babies had come from. They hadn't held back the reality. After Kira had some time to process that, she wanted to know more about where she herself came from, how Sarah had met Cal, and what her mother's pregnancy and labor were like. Sarah told her she'd been an accident, but she laughed about it and assured Kira that she never regretted it. From the look on Delphine's face, Cosima could tell that Mrs. Cormier had not given Delphine those same assurances. 

_Explains why she's not excited about me meeting her mom, I guess._ Cosima reached over and took Delphine's hand in hers, rubbing her thumb over her knuckles. “What about your dad?”

Delphine drank some more coffee before responding, her gaze directed out the window the entire time even as she held Cosima's hand. “He's never said much about it. I know he was there when I was born. He cancelled a business trip to be there, apparently. According to my mother, he lost out on a big trading deal in the process.”

“Yeah, well, it's not every day your kid is born. He probably made up for losing the deal later.”

“Probably.”

Cosima was tempted to jump in with another anecdote of her own, about how her own father had wanted to video tape her birth, but the camcorder broke and he had to choose between shopping around for another or being there for his wife, which is what he settled on. Seeing the frown lines on her darling's face, Cosima decided not to. This wasn't about her; it was about Delphine. 

“Were you ever close?” she asked. “You and your parents, I mean. Did your mom ever come around?”

Delphine blinked a few times, returning from whatever mental side trip she'd been on, and drained her coffee cup. “Did she ever enjoy spending time with me, you mean? A couple times, I think. She loved taking me shopping. There's a perfumery in Paris where women in my family have shopped for generations; she took me there for my twelfth birthday, as a sort of, euh, initiation into womanhood.”

It had been more than a year since Cosima had smelled French perfume, but the scent memory would stay in her brain for the rest of her life, intertwined with Delphine's soft skin, her taste, the sound of her voice, falling in love and getting her heart broken. She hadn't known it was a family tradition. Grinning, she said, “so that's where you got your good taste from.”

Delphine rolled her eyes. “For better or for worse, yes, I think so. She would be mortified to see me like this.” 

“What, drinking Mexican coffee with your middle-class American girlfriend?”

“No, out in public with no makeup on, in a ten-dollar skirt and a two-dollar tank top.”

“I understand why you don't want me to meet her, then. I can only imagine what she'd say about me.”

Delphine chuckled. “So can I. But that's not why. Mostly I just don't care to spend much time with her myself.”

One of the employees came to refill their coffee and serve fluffy pancakes with strawberries. Marie was back out in the dining room, without the baby this time, to clean up the rest of her son's mess. Cosima watched Delphine eat, fork in her left hand as always, and was thankful that she wouldn't have to spend much time trying to impress Mrs. Cormier. 

After breakfast, Delphine went off to the clinic where ten women were scheduled to participate in the “medical study” they were using as a cover for the inoculations. Cosima kissed her goodbye and went off into the city center to finish up their Christmas shopping. Aside from her parents, there were two people left on the shopping list: Sarah and Art. 

Art was tricky. Like everyone in clone club, Cosima adored him, not only because he'd helped take down Neolution and find their international sisters, but because he was just a likable guy. At the same time, though, Cosima barely knew him. She'd never spent time with him one-on-one. After frowning at some window displays, she texted Sarah. 

_What do you think Art wants for Christmas?_

In a few minutes, Sarah replied. _Shit, I haven't asked him yet – booze, maybe?_

Booze. Why not? She grabbed a bottle of El Tequileño, recommended by another customer who saw her searching the tequila shelf, and a bottle opener shaped like a skeleton. 

All Sarah had asked for for Christmas was “the house to herself for a few days.” Between Cosima and Delphine, Alison and Donnie, and Felix, there was plenty of adult coverage to watch the girls while Sarah did whatever she wanted with that time. In terms of material needs, Sarah was in better shape than she'd ever been as an adult on her own. That fall, they learned that MK had set up her Paypal and bank accounts to give Sarah access in the event of her death, meaning that Sarah now had more than $3 million to her name. With the advice of Clone Club, she'd paid off Siobhan's house and set up college funds for Kira and Charlotte. Arrangements were made to pay Benjamin, Siobhan's faithful bodyguard, $25,000 a year, only because he refused to take a larger sum. After that was settled, Sarah paid herself $75,000 a year from the account, close to the median income in Toronto, and not-coincidentally the amount that she'd almost stolen from Alison when they first met. The rest of the money sat and earned interest.

In other words, Sarah didn't need very much. Still, Cosima wasn't about to leave her sister out of the gift-giving, so she picked up a bottle of tequila for her, as well, and made sure it was a bottle with a worm in it. She would attach a card reading, “At least the worm's not in your face this time.”

On her way to the park to meet Delphine, she passed a jewelry store and stopped. Delphine used to wear jewelry. When they first met, she'd worn rings and multiple bracelets more along the lines of Cosima's own style, but even later, she often had a gold chain necklace or tasteful earrings. It was all gone now, along with everything else Delphine had owned before she was shot. Cosima'd asked her once if she missed any of that. 

_“No,” was Delphine's answer. “I got rid of most of it before I lost it, anyways.”_

_“Why?”_

_“Because it reminded me of you, and I couldn't have you.”_

The memory of that conversation made Cosima smile and her heart ache, because Delphine could be so goddamn sappy sometimes. Cosima never, ever minded. 

She selected a silver and sapphire bracelet and asked to have it gift wrapped. She'd never bought jewelry for her before, and desperately hoped she would like it. The only other gift she had for Delphine so far was the gift certificate for the massage – no surprises there. While the clerk wrapped it up, Cosima wandered the rest of the store, lingering longer than she'd planned to at the engagement ring section. 

_I am not buying an engagement ring,_ she told herself. _Not here, not now._

“Does anything interest you here?” the clerk asked. His smile showed that he would have been happy to open the case and let her see any of the pieces. 

“No. No, I'm good. Just looking, thanks.” She retrieved the little gift wrapped bracelet box and tucked it into her bag. The rings ran the gamut from simple gold or silver bands to massive diamond complexes that probably prevented their wearers from ever putting that hand in a pocket ever again. Delphine liked having her hands in her pockets. 

“Are you in the market for a ring?” the clerk asked. 

“Oh, me? No.”

“Just thinking about them, then?”

“Yeah.” She gave him a smile, nervously twisting around her own ring, a clunky fake gold piece she'd gotten at a flea market in 2006. She wondered what kind of ring Jérôme had given Delphine that cost 15,000 euro. The priciest ring here was 200,000 pesos, or about $10,500. It was very nearly the same price as one semester of non-resident graduate study at the University of Minnesota. If she was going to give Delphine something like that, she was going to make damn sure in advance that Delphine wanted it.

A young couple came in then, arms around each other's waists and grinning. The clerk peeled away from Cosima to make a sure sale from the love birds, and Cosima cast one last glance at the ring display before leaving. 

_Hell,_ she thought, _I don't even know Delphine's ring size._

* * 

She greeted Delphine at the park with a pair of towels, a bottle of white wine, and a bag of taco ingredients. It was mid-afternoon, with warm sun and a gentle breeze, and a small brass band played in a gazebo on the other side of the park. Families were out with children and dogs, but Cosima and Delphine managed to get a spot off to the side, where they ate tacos and drank to the success of the Latin American leg of their journey. 

“To 110 Ledas cured,” Cosima said, clinking her cup against Delphine's. 

“And to the next 164,” Delphine added. 

They drank their wine and ate poorly assembled tacos, giggling at each other when meat tumbled out of tortillas and kissing away the specks of guacamole that ended up on cheeks or lower lips. They were almost finished eating when a glob of salsa fell out of Delphine's last taco and landed on her skirt. “P'n!” she cried around a mouthful of food. 

“Aw, come here.” Cosima had come prepared with napkins, and she wiped up as much of the salsa as she could, not remotely upset about the chance to touch Delphine's legs, but a hand-sized spot remained. “At least it's off to the side some,” she said. “So no one's gonna think you peed yourself or anything.”

Finishing her taco, Delphine cleaned her hands with another napkin and swatted her with it. “It's your fault. You made that one for me.”

“Maybe I just like the chance to clean you up.”

Delphine swatted her again, but Cosima just laughed and stowed the food containers and trash in a plastic bag off to the side. A short ways away, a group of children, ranging in age from kindergarten to middle school, played with kites and soccer balls while a pair of puppies ran around them all. One their food was all tucked away, Cosima and Delphine stretched out on their towels to watch. 

“Does that one remind you of anyone?” Cosima asked, pointing to the tallest girl in the group, who kept redirecting the smaller children and pointing to things. 

“Alison, maybe?”

“Uh, yup.” 

Cosima rolled onto her side, supporting her head with her left arm, and turned her attention to Delphine, who kept watching the kids playing. Delphine had her hair pulled back in a ponytail, showing off her neck and her ears. Her eyes were amber-gold this afternoon. Cosima hadn't quite put together a working hypothesis for why Delphine's eyes changed from dark brown to light, but she was okay spending her whole life working on that little project. 

“Do you ever want a dog?” Delphine asked.

“A dog?” She tore her eyes from her girlfriend to watch the puppies romping around, chasing the ball or the children or their own tails. They were mutts, probably, and totally adorable. “Maybe some day. Kinda goes back to not being in one place very long, though. We can't take a puppy with us to Europe. Except for you, of course.” 

Delphine blew a kiss to her, and Cosima gave her her best smile in return. “And what about after we're finished?” Delphine asked. “Once we're in one place. Would you like a dog then?”

 _We went from talking about babies to talking about dogs_. “I might. I've never had one before, so I might not be the best dog mom out there, though. Maybe we should start with, like, parakeets or fish or something.” 

“We could.”

 _We. Whatever we get, she wants us to do it together._ Cosima's heart could've fallen out of her chest at the thought. 

The smaller puppy bounded over to them now, its ears flopping around its spotted head. Not bothering with Cosima or Delphine, it snuffled around their bags, tail wagging, until Delphine reached a hand out to it. It sniffed her, licked her fingers, and then ran back to its group, where the children had started shouting for it. 

“Maybe I'll get you a puppy after we're all settled,” Cosima said. “One with floppy ears and curly hair.”

“Only if you help take care of it.”

“Oh, sure. I'll take it for walks, scoop its poop, the whole nine yards. As long as I get to watch you get all sappy with it.” 

“I don't get all sappy with dogs.”

“You just did! Your whole face changed when it licked your fingers. I thought only I made you melt like that.”

Delphine cocked an eyebrow at her. “That's a different kind of melting.”

“I should hope so.” 

Delphine turned back to watching the young ones playing, the breeze blowing around loose strands of her hair. Cosima lay beside her, heart flopping around in her throat, imagining Delphine with a puppy, Delphine in a house they both lived in, Delphine in ten years, in twenty, thirty, fifty years. She imagined getting a bank account with her, that would be theirs, not the Foundation's, planning retirement, planning vacations to places without any Ledas. She took a deep breath.

“You know, when I told you the other day that I want to be with you for the rest of my life... I meant it.”

Delphine looked back at her, her eyes and her smile soft. “I know, chérie. I meant it, too. I still mean it.” She reached over and stroked Cosima's cheek, then her chin and her lower lip, making Cosima twitch when her finger tip brushed the corner of her mouth. “Is something bothering you, though?”

Cosima rubbed the tingly spot on her lip, begging her body to behave. “Nothing's bothering me, no.”

“Hm. You've been thinking a lot, though. I can see it in your face.”

Cosima blushed then, her ears burning. _Damnit._ “It's nothing big.”

“Okay.” Delphine lowered herself onto her side next to her, keeping her hand on Cosima's face, stroking behind her bright red ears. “Do you believe me when I say I want to stay with you?”

“I... yeah, of course I believe you. I mean, you've stuck with me this far, haven't you?” She tried to laugh, but the air shook on its way out of her lungs. 

She kissed the tip of Cosima's nose. “I have. And you've stuck with me. I'm not always the easiest person to be with.”

“You're the only person I want to be with.”

If Delphine's face melted for the puppy, it was nothing to how she melted for that. She kissed Cosima's lips softly, lingering long enough for Cosima to lose her breath and catch it again. After she pulled away, Delphine rubbed their noses together, her eyes half closed, still holding Cosima's face in the palm of her hand. Cosima's fingers hooked into the waistband of Delphine's skirt, holding on. 

“Would you marry me?” she asked. 

Delphine pulled back a few inches. “Marry you?”

The words had come out without Cosima planning for them to. Now her mouth went dry, and she fought the urge to pretend that she hadn't said it at all. “I mean, if you want to.”

A grin spread across Delphine's face, bringing out her dimples and lighting up her eyes. “I would love to. Are you really asking me?”

“I mean... yeah. I don't have a ring or anything, but, yeah. I'm asking you.”

Delphine shook her head and a for a second Cosima braced herself for a rejection, but Delphine just said, “I don't need a ring, _mon amour_. I just need you.”


	7. Chapter 7

_Toronto, early December_

“So how's your class coming?”

Sarah looked up at Art and scowled. “You sound like me, talking to the kids.”

He grinned and held the door open for her, then followed her into the diner. It was the tail end of the dinner rush, so they had to wait for tables to be cleared before getting seated. The air was filled with the clatter of dishes and the smell of coffee and fried food. 

“I am proud of you, though,” Art added. “Going back to school is hard, no matter what.”

“Yeah. It's not doing much for my self-esteem, though, I'll tell you that. I just keep reminding myself that it's for Kira. I can't just coast by without trying to improve myself, not with Kira watching everything I do.” 

He nodded. “Yeah, I know what you mean. Kids change your perspective.”

Sarah had finally earned her GED in August, and spent a fruitless month searching for gainful employment that didn't involve a cash register, a deep fryer, or a toilet brush. She'd considered a few overnight positions, stocking shelves, baking bread, and doing security, but she could not leave Kira and Charlotte alone all night, and it was a lot to ask someone else to watch them for five nights a week. She didn't have the people skills for customer service or the physical strength to deliver packages. Even filing clerk positions usually asked for an Associate's Degree. It all reminded her why she had gone into drug dealing in the first place, but she would clean toilets before she went back to that life. 

In early September, Alison tossed her a metaphorical bone and put Sarah on the Sadler and Daughter's Foundation payroll as a part-time administrative assistant, for minimum wage, ten hours a week. She still had that title, but within a week, it became plainly clear that Sarah wouldn't have gotten or kept the job working for anyone other than her sister. She'd never made a spreadsheet before, and she couldn't make head nor tail of the databases Alison had set up. Her main job duties quickly turned into running errands for Alison or handling last minute issues for Cosima and Delphine. 

Then, just as toilet cleaning was starting to seem like a real possibility, Sarah checked her bank statement to see if she afford new shoes for Kira, and almost fell out of her chair. Just over $3 million had magically appeared in her account overnight, courtesy of MK, who'd set up her account to transfer the funds automatically in the event that she did not log in to her account for twelve months. Sarah's job search ended, and she enrolled herself in a ten-week Computer Applications course at the local community college. She'd just left the classroom when Art texted asking if she wanted dinner.

“Don't tell me this class is too hard for you,” Art said, as the hostess seated them near a window.

Sarah groaned and leaned against the cold glass. “It just about is. I think I can pass, but it's kicking my ass right now. It doesn't help that the teacher's two years younger than me, and most of the other students aren't even twenty yet. The only ones older than me are, like, seventy-five and taking the class because they're bored.”

“Don't worry about that. You focus on you.”

She sighed. “Some pimple-faced git in the class with me, one of those under-twenties, he told me I'm not detail-oriented enough for computer work. I wanted to slap him, but I think he's right.”

They ordered coffee and tea, and Art wrinkled his forehead at her. “Not detail-oriented? Don't give me that bullshit. You conned me, and the entire police department, for weeks as Beth, remember? You conned Beth's bank and her boyfriend. Didn't you once convince Ferdinand that you were actually Rachel Duncan? You don't do that kind of conning without being detail-oriented.”

“That's not detail-oriented, that's just paying attention and being flexible, isn't it?”

“Is it? You managed your way around the computers at the station while you were there.”

She laughed. “That's `cause I got Raj to help me with everything. How's he doing, by the way?”

Art said that Raj was doing fine just as the waiter returned with their drinks. They ordered – steak and a salad for Art and a cheddar bacon scramble for Sarah. Outside, the drizzle of the afternoon turned into steady freezing rain that tapped against the glass of the diner window. 

She sighed. “You wanna hear something sad? I took my placement tests for the college, to figure out what levels I need to be in, you know, and I placed, no shit, I placed in fucking _developmental_ math and English. Developmental, like, for the stupid people who can't handle regular classes.”

“It just means it's been a while since you took those subjects,” Art assured her. “You'll get back up to speed.”

She shook her head. “Doesn't feel like I will. And I've never been good at math. I took the same math class three years in a row in school, and I failed every single time. Meanwhile, my bloody clone is working on her bloody PhD and figured out how to cure all of us by her bloody self.”

As if on cue, Sarah's phone beeped, showing a message from Cosima. Opening the message, she saw a picture of Cosima and Delphine, smiling at each other in a garden at sunset, surrounded by banana trees and climbing vines with bright red flowers. They both wore short sleeves and Cosima had her arms around Delphine's waist. “God, she has to rub it in, doesn't she?” Sarah muttered. Before she could show the picture to Art, another message popped up, written in all caps. 

_SHE SAID YES_

“Well, shit!” Sarah cried, “It's about bloody time!” Grinning, she spun the phone around to show Art. “She finally asked Delphine to marry her. Like she wasn't gonna say yes. Pssh.”

Art's face broke into the kind of grin he usually reserved for Helena's babies or his own daughter's accomplishments. “So we're gonna have a Clone Club wedding, then?”

The phone beeped again. _Maybe don't tell everyone yet,_ Cosima wrote. _Or is it too late for that?_

 _No problem. Art's here, so I told him, but that's all. I'll let you tell everyone else._ She sent the message, then added, _Just don't wait too bloody long to tell them!_

Sarah remembered Cosima when Delphine was missing, and when they thought she was dead. She remembered when Cosima herself had been dying, hooked up to an oxygen tank and coughing up blood left and right and all any of them could think about was _survival_. And now Cosima and Delphine were getting married. Looking back at the picture Cosima sent, she grinned, her happiness mostly overcoming her envy. Mostly.

“Excuse me.” She waved to the waitress when she passed. “Could you take a picture of us? Art, look miserable.”

The waitress agreed, taking a moment to sort out Sarah's phone. Sarah and Art slouched in their seats, elbows on the table. Art wore his best hang-dog expression and pointed at the weather outside just as the waitress snapped the photo. Sarah send the picture to Cosima with the message, _It's a little less romantic up here. Good thing you asked her before you got back._

Then, in all seriousness, she sent another. _Seriously, I'm thrilled for you both. You bloody well better invite all of us to the wedding._

* *

Delphine told Marie, the owner of the bed and breakfast, the news as soon as they returned for the night. They'd eaten dinner at La Nacional, recommended as the “best romantic restaurant in Monterrey,” which gave Delphine an excuse to buy a new skirt to replace the one with the salsa stain on it, and it really was quite romantic. All the same, Delphine would have been happy with a taco truck as long as she was there with Cosima, but Cosima wanted to spoil her, and she wanted to give Cosima what she wanted. 

“Where's the ring?” Marie demanded, looking at Delphine's fingers once she'd ascertained that it was Cosima who'd done the asking. 

“There isn't one,” Delphine replied. 

Beside her, Cosima squirmed a little. “I'll get her once we're back in Toronto.”

Marie nodded, satisfied with that answer. “They might have a better selection there, and you'll have time to resize it up there if you need to.”

And then there were pictures and a bottle of wine brought out especially for them, and they drank to their future together. 

In their room upstairs, they took their time getting ready for bed. Every few minutes, Cosima looked at her sideways, with those shining puppy dog eyes that melted Delphine's heart. Finally, seated on the edge of the bed, she wrapped an arm around Cosima's waist and her pulled her close, so Cosima had to wrap her arms around Delphine's neck to keep from toppling sideways. 

“You know,” Delphine said, “you don't have to buy me an engagement ring at all.”

Cosima smiled and blushed a little. “Are you just saying that because I don't know what kind to get you?”

“No, not at all. I've given it a lot of thought.”

“Have you?” She twisted a little and sat sideways on Delphine's lap, one hand playing with Delphine's hair. 

“Yes. For years after I left Jérôme, I thought about what he did that made me so upset, when everyone else thought I should have been happy.”

Cosima's fingers followed the line of Delphine's jaw from her ear to the slight divot in her chin. “You said he just wanted to show you off, like a possession he'd won or something.”

“Yes, that was most of it. And the engagement ring, well, you know that was him showing off, too.”

“Because it cost 15,000 euro.”

“Yes, partly. But also because he put it on my finger in front of everyone. He...” She searched for the right words in English. She'd explained this to her close French friends, but never to anyone else in English. “It was like when I bought that painting of you. He'd put a sticker on me and bought me for 15,000 euro in front of everyone.”

Cosima smiled at the memory of the painting. They had talked, and talked, and talked some more, for what ended up being hours, about commitment and autonomy and vulnerability both before and after Delphine bought it. They'd talked even more while planning their trip to Latin America, about entitlements and responsibilities and obligations. 

“I guess engagement rings are like that, though,” Cosima said, “for straight people, anyway. It's a way for guys to, like, tag their women so other guys know she's off limits.”

Delphine nodded. _She gets it. She gets me._ “Yes. And it's telling, isn't it, that men don't wear engagement rings? That only women do?”

“Would it be, like, terribly unfeminist of me,” Cosima said, “if I kind of want that, though? Like, if I want people to know your mine? I mean, just walking down the street today after you said yes, it was so fucking hard for me to keep my mouth shut and _not_ just shout it out to everyone we passed.”

Delphine giggled, because she'd had the same inclination before, just not today. Her first night with Cosima in Toronto had had that effect on her; she'd wanted to shout from the windows, “Cosima knows who I am and she still wants to be with me!” In the end, the only person other than Cosima who saw Delphine gloat in any way was Aldous Leekie. She couldn't keep from smirking too much that one of his subjects had so thoroughly outperformed him, but it took her several days to let the smirk come out. She kissed Cosima's hand, first the side, then the palm. 

“No,” she assured her. “It wouldn't be terrible to want that. But you know, I was yours long before you asked me to marry you. That hasn't changed.”

With her free hand, Cosima brushed Delphine's hair back behind her ear and played with her earlobe. “I know. I was yours, too; I have been yours. I just... I just want everybody to know it. And you can give me a ring, too! Claim the hell out of me.”

A breeze came in from the cracked open window and made them both shiver. Delphine pulled Cosima closer and nuzzled her neck. “I will give you one when we get married. Wedding rings are a little different from engagement rings that way. We give them to each other, and we make each other promises. It doesn't matter even who goes first, because we both say the same words, the same promises, and we both lay claim to each other.”

Cosima leaned back, allowing the breeze to raise goosebumps on Delphine's now exposed chest. “You can be so romantic sometimes, Dr. Cormier.”

“Sometimes.” With a smooth motion, she deposited Cosima on the bed and stood up to close the window. “Sometimes I'm practical.” 

**

The flight out of Monterrey left at close to four in the afternoon, leaving them time to stroll around the Macroplaza and the Palacio del Obispado before heading to the airport. Marie gave them a small gift basket full of local goodies when they checked out, winking to show them it was a special gift. 

“Send me wedding pictures!” she told them. 

On their way to the airport, Cosima watched the Mexican landscape go by, Delphine's hand in hers. Delphine watched her, seeing the small frown forming between Cosima's eyebrows. “Will you miss Latin America?” she asked. 

Cosima took a deep breath and considered before answering. “Yes. But I'm looking forward to getting back. Seeing all the sestras again, having my own lab, you know. Flushing the toilet paper instead of throwing it away.”

They both giggled. “That will be our first culture shock when we get back,” she said, “put toilet paper in the toilet instead of a trash can.”

The airport check-in went smoothly; they had both flown enough times by now to have the routine down pat and to know exactly what measures to take to ensure a pleasant experience. They were accustomed to the panicking travelers running around them, the brusque security agents, and the variable selections of airport food. Over the past several months, Cosima had developed characters to go with common airport denizens, sometimes named after actual people. 

“Looks like another Rodrigo up there,” she commented as they shuffled through the line towards security. Sure enough, when Delphine looked, she saw a man shouting instructions to the folks in his line, just like the original Rodrigo with his security line in Santiago had. 

“Put the bins back on the stack when you finish!” this one shouted, first in Spanish, then in English. “If you put them back, the line moves faster!” Five minutes later, when he found more empty bins piling up on the conveyor belt, he yelled again. “You're not listening to me! Put the bins back on the stack!”

“How much longer do you think he has?” Cosima asked. 

“Before he quits?”

“Before he gives himself an ulcer.”

“Too late for that; he probably already has one.”

They transferred in Houston with a ninety minute layover that gave them enough time to use the bathroom (and flush their toilet paper), grab some premade sandwiches and snacks from a kiosk, and find their next terminal. On the way, they shared a hallway with a girl in her late teens or early twenties, a Powerpuff Girls pillow strapped to her hiking backpack and tears streaming down her face. “This is such _bullshit_!” she cried out. “I can't believe it. Such fucking bullshit!”

Delphine would have ignored her, but Cosima cocked her head in the girl's direction and watched her as they all walked in the same direction. At the end of the hallway they were stopped by a set of sliding doors and sign asking them to please wait for the shuttle to take them to their terminal. The girl made a sound like her arm was being ripped off. 

“What time does your flight leave?” Cosima asked.

“It leaves at four fucking thirty! And it's four o'clock right now! There's no way I can get there; I'm going to miss my fucking flight!” She grabbed her hair at the roots and yanked hard. 

_A Tabitha,_ Delphine thought, remembering the girl at the airport in São Paolo, named Tabitha by Cosima, who had come close to this level of drama. _But worse._

“Where are you flying to?” Cosima asked the girl, smiling a little at her. 

“Nowhere because I'm gonna miss my fucking flight oh my God!” 

Delphine rolled her eyes. “You'll be fine,” she told her. “Freaking out never -”

“Okay, you don't know anything about me so don't tell me not to freak out, okay?”

Now Delphine just wanted to laugh. This is why she avoided interacting with strangers whenever possible. She could deliver babies and save lives, but emotional management was Cosima's wheelhouse, not hers. If the person didn't respond to Delphine's attempts to calm them in the first few seconds, Delphine gave up, and in this case, she had to admit she wasn't even trying. “Okay,” she said.

Thirty minutes later, she and Cosima were on their next plane, in seats a few rows back from First Class, and the Houston Tabitha, as they now called her, was off somewhere else. “I hope she got her flight,” Cosima commented as she settled into the middle seat. Delphine got the window seat this time.

“I hope she didn't.”

“Really? That's a little petty of you, don't you think?”

A middle-aged man with a salt-and-pepper beard sat in the aisle seat next to Cosima, nodding to both of them as he did. Delphine barely took note of him, and said to Cosima, “It's not petty. If she makes her flight, she might think that all of her dramatics led to her success, but if she misses her flight, she'll learn that life goes on.”

“She could be stranded here. We don't know what her situation is.”

“No, but I'm not convinced she knows her situation all that well, either. She shouldn't have been so rushed; she should have planned better.”

“Right. Like we've never missed a flight.”

Their flight from Lima to Buenos Aires, like most all of their flights, had been schedule last minute, with few options to choose from, and they ended up having less than an hour to transfer in Santiago. As a result, they missed their second flight by about ten minutes, and spent the night in Santiago, earning Cosima an unpleasant earful from Alison Hendrix.

“I don't recall either of us making that kind of scene when it happened,” Delphine remarked. “Do you?” 

“Not the point, love.” 

They settled into comfortable positions, with rolled up sweatshirts, travel pillows, water bottles, and portable entertainment situated in routine-tested places around them. Delphine was fishing a bag of mixed nuts from her bag when she heard Cosima gasp and exclaim, “Holy shit, that's awesome!”

“What? What's awesome?”

But Cosima wasn't looking at her; she was turned to the man in the aisle seat, who had removed his left leg from the knee down and propped it up against his shoulder like a rifle, the foot poking up beside his head. He grinned at Cosima's enthusiasm. “I've always got legroom,” he said. 

The plane began to taxi toward the runway, and Cosima jumped into an animated conversation with her seat partner, who said his name was Amir. He asked about where she'd been and she told him, introducing Delphine with a grin as her fiancée and then leaning back to allow them to shake hands. He congratulated them and said he was returning from a year-long study on flesh-eating bacteria along the Gulf coast. At that, Cosima's eyes really lit up, and by the time the plane was airborne and the fasten seatbelt sign turned off, Cosima and Amir were pouring over charts and images on his laptop. Amir's prosthetic leg had moved to straddle both of their laps, and Delphine heard the women sitting in front of them expressing private, quiet discomfort at the topics under discussion. 

“Babe, check this out,” Cosima said a couple of times, tapping Delphine's arm to show her something Amir had on his computer. “See this model shows the spread of nectorizing fasciitis in hurricane-prone areas, and this one-” Cosima broke off to grin at Delphine and hold her hand more closely. “Delphine's the one you should really be talking to. She did her dissertation on host-parasite relationships.”

Amir's eyebrows popped up. “Really?”

She squeezed Cosima's hand, trying to tell her without saying so that she loved her, but was looking forward to zoning out for the next few hours. Again, chatting people up was Cosima's gig, not hers. “Yes, really.”

“Well, I'd love to hear about your research if you don't mind sharing. Scientist to scientist, you know.” Amir had a warm smile, the kind that would understand a polite decline. Cosima, on the other hand, was beaming, showing the full force of her canines, and Delphine could never resist that grin. She gave Amir the overview of her dissertation work, now several years in the past, and tried to emphasize that she wasn't focusing so much on host-parasite relationships these days. Amir then asked Cosima about her research, and the conversation swerved into discussions of clone cells, stem cell lines, and the perils of doing research remotely. After a few minutes, Delphine felt safe turning away and leaning her head against her make-shift pillow. She watched the heartland of the United States pass beneath them and listened to the chatter of her lover – her fiancée – beside her, and before she knew it she drifted off. 

* * 

_The blood was everywhere – on her hands, her blouse, the floor, even the walls of the antique dressing room. In her arms, Cosima twitched and gaped like a fish out of water, and Delphine screamed. Then, in a moment, it was over. Cosima went limp, her lungs ceased their struggle, and her eyes glazed over, fixed on nothing._

_“Let her go, Delphine.” Siobhan's hand was gentle on her shoulder, but firm. Sarah was there, too, and with Siobhan's help she pulled Delphine back, took Cosima from her arms, and told her it was over, there was nothing she could do._

_“We got him,” Sarah said. “He's dead now, too.” Turning, she saw it was true. The man she'd known as PT Westmoreland was dead in the doorway, pistol still in his hand. She couldn't even avenge her lover's death._

_Time passed, and there were still clones to cure. Delphine went alone. She saw countless women with Cosima's face, but none of them were her. They didn't have her hair, her tongue-between-her-teeth smile, her brilliance, her humor. They weren't her. A few of them flirted with her, but she just stuck the needle in their arms, or their uteruses, and left. At night she went alone to her hotel, always a blank, business-oriented room. She drank whiskey and smoked cigarettes on the balcony and fell asleep with her clothes on. Eventually, she stuck a needle in the last Leda. The woman left without Delphine even learning her name, and then Delphine had nowhere else to go. There was nothing left to do, no reason to keep going..._

BONG

“Attention passengers. We are now beginning our descent into Toronto. The captain has turned on the fasten seatbelt sign...”

Reality crashed into Delphine like a shock. She tried turning, but she couldn't move, and for a moment, she panicked. Then a gentle hand held her face, and she heard soft laughter.

“It's okay, baby. You're still on the plane.”

“Hnnnn?”

“You passed the fuck out. I don't think I've ever seen you sleep that deeply on a plane before. Usually that's my job.”

Her eyes adjusted to the fluorescent lights and her breathing returned to normal. She was indeed on a plane, and Cosima was not dead, but sitting and smiling right next to her. Outside the window, gaps in the clouds showed tiny winking lights of cars, buildings, and street lamps far below, clustering around neighborhoods and cities and outlining waterways. She could still taste the cheap dream cigarettes in her mouth, and it took her a minute to remember that she'd quit smoking over a year ago. Her face was damp. A look at the sweatshirt she'd been using as a pillow showed a five inch wide wet spot right where her face had been. 

“Yeah, you were drooling.”

“Apparently.”

Cosima offered her some water, and she drank it with shaky hands. Her body was back in reality, but her mind could not shake the dream. The overwhelming sense of loss and despair lingered in the folds of her heart even as Cosima took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “Are you okay?” she asked. 

“Mm. Yes. Just... still sleepy.” She tried to stretch, but was thwarted by the carry on bag at her feet. She wanted to turn and wrap all of herself around Cosima, to feel her heart beat and her breath against her skin, but that would have to wait. She settled for leaning her head against Cosima's. “A bed will be nice.”

“We'll get you tucked in soon enough,” Cosima assured her. “Scott promised to put fresh linens on the bed for us today, and he said there's a new space heater down there now.”

She smiled and closed her eyes against the plane's lights. Children in the seats behind them cried out that they saw snow on the ground, and an adult told them it was not snow, but a white roof. “Weather says no snow,” the man said. “Just a lot of sleet and gross weather.”

As her body crept further into wakefulness, she felt her scar flaring up, itching and burning at the same time. It was a familiar sensation, with the symptoms presenting themselves far enough under the dermis that no amount of rubbing or scratching the area would ever help. In fact, it only made matters worse. She winced and tried to press on the site with the heel of her hand, trying to at least contain the discomfort until it passed or she could put an ice pack on it. She'd been sitting too long, twisted and crunched and using her abdominal muscles without really thinking about it because she'd been asleep, and this was the result. This was why she usually did her best to stay awake on plane flights, so she could at least change positions once in a while.

“What's wrong?” Cosima asked.

She almost brushed it off like she had with the nightmare. Physical pain, though, was easier to manage, easier to share. “My scar's bothering me,” she said. “You know how it is sometimes.”

“Hmm.” Cosima reached around their seat belts to rub Delphine's upper thigh. “It's been a while since it hurt you, though.”

She nodded. Images from the dream kept flickering in her mind, no matter how hard she tried to convince her brain that it wasn't real. She remembered Siobhan's hands on her shoulders, the smell of blood, the pervasive grayness and hopelessness of it all. It wasn't real. Siobhan had never put her hands on Delphine's shoulders, and Delphine had never wanted her to until now, when she remembered that Siobhan never would. 

_It could've been real._ There was that little voice again, reminding her of how terrible things _could_ have turned out. Like she needed to be reminded of just how lucky she was.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. This one didn't want to get written, but I think it's alright now.
> 
> * * * *

After shuttling through every major airport in Latin America (and several of the minor ones), Cosima expected landing in Toronto to be different, to feel like _home_. 

It didn't. 

As she leaned around Delphine to watch the city appear on the banks of Lake Ontario, she didn't get the thrill of seeing her home coming into view. It was just another city growing larger with their approach, not so different from San Juan, Buenos Aires, or São Paolo. Just colder and greyer. 

“I've never seen it from this angle before,” she said. 

“Hm?” Delphine opened one eye, frowning, both arms wrapped around her stomach.

“I've never flown into Canada before. I've driven or taken buses or whatever, but I've never seen it from the air.”

Delphine grunted. “`s nothing special.”

The plan landed in a few minutes, and they sat quietly waiting for first class to disembark before they stood up. When it was their turn, Cosima retrieved the carry-on suitcase containing the two remaining vials of clone cure from the overhead compartment, and led her still bleary-eyed fiancée from the plane. Parking themselves and their luggage in the non-citizens line for customs, Cosima wrapped her arms around Delphine's midsection and let Delphine rest her cheek on her the top of her head. 

“Do you think you'll want to be a Canadian citizen one day? Like, after we're done traveling?”

Delphine shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Just maybe. Hmm. Usually I'm the one too tired to function after a flight, not you. You sure you're okay?”

Delphine nodded, though Cosima swore she felt a heaviness in Delphine's body that wasn't usually there.

“How much you wanna bet that you'll be wide awake once we put you in bed later?” 

Delphine didn't answer. 

The line moved foot by foot, a segmented snake of people moving through the legal limbo that existed on Canadian soil but not yet in Canada, and Delphine's eyes were closed more than they were open as she leaned either on Cosima's shoulder or on one of the lane dividers. The only time she perked up was when a security beagle went by sniffing everyone's luggage, and she pressed a knuckle against her lips to contain a squeal. Cosima mentally filed away the memory for later, when she might, potentially, be able to get Delphine a puppy. Some day. The thought was interrupted when Cosima's phone buzzed. 

“Sarah says they're here,” she told Delphine. 

“Hm,” was all Delphine said, still watching the beagle work its way down the line but no longer smiling. Cosima watched the way Delphine still rubbed her abdomen, and she wanted to do whatever she could to make the pain stop, to make Delphine smile again even for a second, but she knew that a customs line wasn't the place to try kissing it to make it better. She had to settle for kissing Delphine's cheek, instead. 

“We'll be home soon,” she said. 

For now, Cosima navigated their way through customs, paying the duty fee for the tequila they were bringing in, and leading her fiancée by the hand through the double doors into the arrivals area, where a small mass of people waited to greet their loved ones or business connections. 

She saw the signs first – large poster board signs reading “WELCOME HOME” along with their names in rainbow colors and drawings of butterflies and airplanes, held by Charlotte and Kira. Charlotte stood as still and stoically as any of the sensible business people nearby, but Kira almost wiggled out of her skin. Both girls had grown since the summer, she saw, and Charlotte looked even more like the other sestras than she had on Skype. No matter how many times she saw her youngest clone, the resemblance to herself in adolescence still startled Cosima. Add a few years, a nose ring, and glasses, and Charlotte could start doing clone swaps. Behind the girls stood Sarah, looking almost the same as when Cosima last saw her, exhaustion, torn jeans, and all, and in her arms were two winter coats, one red, one black.

“You're gonna need these,” Sarah said after she'd hugged them both.

Cosima swathed herself in her old red coat, smelling the must of the Rabbit Hole's closet, and fought the memories that threatened to explode in her mind. 

_Meeting Alison for the first time._  
_Running through campus with Delphine and a bottle of wine._  
_Coughing up blood._

She shook her head and smiled to thank her sister. From her bag she took her hat and gloves, packed back in June with this day in mind, and Delphine did the same. Hers, though, were purchased in Mexico, where selection was limited. The hat was one of those ear-flap varieties decorated with bright red snow flakes and a white pompom on top that looked frikkin' adorable on Delphine, but which Cosima knew would be traded for Delphine's trusty old grey beanie in less than 24 hours. 

Outside the airport, both of them gasped when the frigid air hit their faces, making Sarah and Kira laugh. Making sure the girls weren't quite in earshot, Cosima muttered, “fuuuuuck....”

“A bit different than what you've gotten used to, isn't it?” Sarah said.

Several rows of cars later, Sarah pulled out her keys and pushed a button to unlock a black Prius.

“What happened to Siobhan's truck?” 

“Nothing. It's still back at the house. It's not that easy getting two girls to and from everywhere with it, though, you know? Especially since they keep getting taller on me.”

The Prius had four doors and a hatchback and looked more suited for Alison Hendrix than Sarah Manning, except for a bumper sticker advertising Bobby's Bar. Charlotte took the front seat, with Kira sitting between Cosima and Delphine in the back.

“Me and Charlotte convinced Mom to get this car,” Kira said. “And Colin helped, too.”

“Yeah,” Sarah said as she pulled out of their spot. “Alison wanted me to get a minivan.”

Cosima tried to imagine Sarah driving a minivan, and laughed. “Well, I appreciate any and all attempts at reducing the carbon footprint.”

Sarah pulled into the long line of cars exiting the airport parking lot. “That's what the girls said. What do you want for dinner, by the way? Or did you eat on the plane?” 

Cosima smirked. “Yeah, no, we fly coach. No in-flight meals for us. And whatever you guys want is fine. How `bout you, babe?” She reached around Kira to tap Delphine's shoulder. “You want anything special for dinner?”

“Anything is fine. All I really want is a cup of coffee.”

Cosima snorted. “Only if you want to spend the night by yourself.”

In the time since leaving Dyad, Delphine's caffeine intake had been severely reduced, meaning each cup of coffee packed a much larger punch than it had in her days of four to six cups a day. She'd forgotten that once in Guatemala, when one of the clinic doctors gave her a 16 ounce cup of local brew in the afternoon and Cosima thought she might actually jitter out of her own skin. It was the only night Cosima had ever kicked Delphine out of bed, because Delphine simply could not keep her body still. 

Charlotte twisted to look at them from the front seat. “Sarah says we're going wherever you guys want to go for dinner.”

“Yeah,” Kira agreed. “So you should pick something.”

They looked at each other over Kira's head, and Delphine shrugged. “You have been saying you miss maple syrup. And peanut butter.”

At that, both Charlotte and Kira broke into smiles. “We can go to Jack's!” Kira cried. “We can have breakfast for dinner!”

Sarah paid for their parking and the car sped out onto the highway towards Toronto proper. Cosima was struck by how different the landscape here was from each Latin American city they'd been to, and she was about to comment on it, but when she looked over, she saw a far off look on Delphine's face. Her fiancée's mouth was drawn into a small frown, and her eyes were larger than usual. Cosima reached over and brushed the side of her head, making Delphine jump a little.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Yes.” Delphine turned to kiss Cosima's wrist. “Just remembering things.”

At Jack's Diner, they all piled into a booth towards the back, and everyone got hot chocolate except Sarah, who got black tea. Cosima hadn't thought she was hungry on the ride over, but the pies in the front display case called her name as she walked past, and just about everything on the menu looked amazing.

“Will you judge me,” Cosima asked the table at large, “if I order something super unhealthy?” 

“It's the Christmas season,” Delphine said, “so we can all be a little unhealthy, I think.”

“Alison would disagree with you there,” Sarah said. “Apparently she's got her whole family on a diet right now.”

Kira giggled. “That's just because she caught Helena giving the twins butter.”

“What's wrong with butter?” Delphine asked. “They're eating solids now, aren't they?”

“Yes,” Charlotte said, “but it's just butter. Like, she gets a glob of butter on her fingers and gives it to them like that. They love it.”

Cosima could picture that quite well, and she imagined that Helena would transfer some of her own idiosyncrasies about food to her feeding of the boys, who were now nine months old. “That sounds like Helena,” she said.

Delphine nodded. “As long as they're getting a balanced diet otherwise and their pediatrician says they're okay, butter should be fine.”

“She also gave them a can of frosting,” Charlotte said, “but I think she ate most of that herself.”

It must've been news to Kira, who turned to her mother to indignantly say, “you never let me eat frosting out of the can!”

“Yeah, `cause I'm not Helena, and neither are you! You heard about her trip to the dentist, yeah, Cos?”

She had. Apparently Helena had gone most, or even all, of her life without seeing a dentist, and that combined with her sugar addiction had created a goldmine of cavities. The only way the family had gotten her through the initial exam and cleaning was by Donnie holding her hand the whole time, and discussions were underway as to how to get her through the recommended fillings and a potential root canal.

“She just needs a little moral support,” Kira had said. “She's afraid of doctors.”

“I'm sure one of us can sit with her through it,” Cosima said. “If that's what it takes. We'll find a dentist who understands.”

The waiter came for their orders, and Delphine got a salad. All the talk of butter and frosting turned her off of the heavier menu items, but Cosima had the opposite response, ordering a plate of French toast, scrambled eggs with cheese, and hash browns. She might regret it all later, but that was a problem for later. Sarah ordered a club sandwich, Kira got a stack of pancakes, and Charlotte ordered the eggs benedict. 

While they waited for their food to arrive, they chatted about family news and local happenings, with Kira doing most of the talking and Sarah or Charlotte chiming in with side notes or corrections. They learned that Cal Morrison, Kira's father, might be coming to town for Christmas, but no one was quite sure how likely that was. Then their food arrived, and Cosima stopped caring about Cal Morrison. After a few minutes of quiet chewing and the clatter of silverware on plates, Charlotte sighed and slumped in her seat. 

“What's wrong?” Cosima asked. The youngest Leda had seemed in better spirits that evening than in their recent Skype calls, but she could be moody, too.

Charlotte twisted her mouth like she didn't want to say, but then said, “Ira's was better.”

 _Ira's_. Cosima had not thought about Ira for months, focusing on the Ledas they could and would save rather than the Castor men they hadn't even tried to save. She reached across the table and took Charlotte's hand in hers. “Ira was a good guy,” she said. “I know you miss him.”

Tears gathered in Charlotte's eyes, but she nodded and picked her fork back up. She didn't eat, but pushed a piece of egg around on her plate, eyes down. 

“Did he ever show you how to make it?” Delphine asked.

Charlotte shook her head. “He said it was hard to get it right.”

Delphine nodded. “It is hard, but once you have the technique, it's not too bad. Would you like to learn?”

“Do you know how to make it?” Charlotte asked. 

“Yes, but it's been a while.”

Cosima leaned back from her own decimated plate to arch an eyebrow at Delphine. “You've never made me an eggs benedict.”

“You've never asked for one.”

After they'd eaten their fill of diner food and Cosima decided against buying any pies, Sarah drove them to the Rabbit Hole and dropped them off. “See you tomorrow, yeah?” she called from the driver's seat.

Cosima nodded. “Yeah, definitely. Maybe tomorrow afternoon, though. We need to settle in a little before too much family time.” 

Downstairs, in the cold former storage space come laboratory, she and Delphine turned on all the lights, set down their luggage, and stood for a minute, staring at the space and each other. It was cold enough that their breath fogged in the air. Despite the months that she and Delphine had spent living here after the fall of Neolution, the first memories that sprang to Cosima's mind were of bloody coughing fits, robot worms, and soul crushing despair, but to her surprise, she still felt a rush of fondness for the little apartment – laboratory combo. 

“You know,” Cosima said, “I didn't realize it, but I kind of missed this place. In a weird way.”

Delphine turned on the nearest space heater, then wrapped her arms around Cosima and nuzzled her hair. “Why is it weird?”

“Because so much of the time I spent here was.... well, it wasn't exactly happy.”

“No. But some of it was, I think.”

She nodded and rubbed her nose against Delphine's warm neck. “Yeah. Especially once you got here.” 

Delphine giggled. Her clothes smelled like coffee and bacon, and the stale airplane air they had marinated in for much of the day. Then she sighed and pulled Cosima closer.

Cosima rested her her hands on Delphine's hips and thought back to their dinner. “Is it okay with you that I've only told Sarah so far?”

“What?”

“That we're engaged. Sarah's the only one I've told, well, not counting Art. The girls don't know.”

“Oh, no, that's okay. If you told the girls, they would run around and tell everyone else before we got the chance to, and you want to tell them yourself.”

“Exactly.” 

They broke away from each other to turn on the remaining space heaters scattered around the basement and to check their stores of winter clothing. Then, Cosima went over to the storage case and looked at the new vials of the clone vaccine Scott had put together for them. “We'll need some more. There's only twenty here, and we have, what, fifty in Europe and the Middle East?” 

“Something like that.” Delphine plucked at the sleeve of Cosima's jacket. “Worry about that tomorrow. I'm going to take a shower, and you know the hot water here doesn't last very long.”

By the time Cosima got into the tiny bathroom with the clawfoot bathtub and the fitful shower head, Delphine was already naked and shampooing her hair. No matter how many times Cosima had seen Delphine naked, in various states, moods, and positions, watching Delphine wash her hair always held a special appeal for her. Maybe it was the way Delphine's arms raised above her head and stretched out her torso, or the way she held her head to one side, or maybe it was just the play of water over her skin, coursing across the freckles on her back and down the crack of her ass...

“Are you coming in?”

“Yeah, yeah. Totally.” She shucked off her clothing and climbed in with her, hurrying to soap up the most important parts of herself. As Delphine predicted, the water cooled off just as they finished rinsing off, so Cosima had goose bumps when she stepped out. There would be no shower sex in this place, that was for sure.

After they'd showered, dried off, and crawled under the layers of blankets on the bed, Cosima tucked herself against Delphine's body and breathed in the warm smell of her skin and hair. Delphine wore a T-shirt and flannel pajamas pants, and Cosima missed the easy access to her bare skin she'd had in Latin America, when all Delphine wore to bed most nights was a pair of shorts. She kissed her above the neckline of the T-shirt. 

“I'm glad you're here,” she whispered. 

Delphine squeezed her arm. “Me too. Did you think I wouldn't be?”

“No, no. It's not that. I'm just glad you're here.”

“Hm.” 

She felt Delphine smile, and her fingers tapped against Cosima's arm even as residual warmth from the shower weighted Cosima's limbs down. “You're not even, like, remotely tired anymore, are you?” Cosima asked.

“Only a little bit. I slept pretty heavily on the plane.”

Cosima remembered Delphine's face, tucked into and drooling on her rolled up sweatshirt, scowling in her sleep. “You did. You seemed upset when you woke up, too. Did you have a bad dream?”

Delphine paused before answering, which meant the answer was probably _yes_ even if Delphine said _no_. She pulled Cosima closer and ran her fingers over her upper arm, feeling the curves of her muscles. They'd both kept fit on their journey, walking and biking a lot, doing yoga, and discovering a mutual love of rock climbing, complete with jokes about the next time they'd get each other in a harness. 

“You could say that,” she said. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

Delphine chest shook a little as she breathed in, making Cosima look up to see her staring at the ceiling. Cosima knew when Delphine was stalling. A year after their little Don't Ask Don't Tell arrangement on Revival, Delphine talked a lot more, but her habit was still to keep difficult topics close to her chest, even as Cosima got better about seeing through her defenses. 

“I don't remember all of it,” she said. 

Cosima rubbed her thumb over Delphine's ribs through her shirt. “That's okay. Tell me what you remember.”

“It was just... old worries I thought I was finished with. Like, something scraped up the old, accumulated gunk from the underside of my psyche and set it floating around in my head again. I need to just let it settle back into place, forget about it again.”

“That's an oddly poetic way to describe it without telling me what you actually dreamed about.”

She let out a huff of air. “Okay. I dreamed that you were dead. Is that better?”

Cosima kissed her jaw, then her cheek. “I'm sorry.”

“For what?”

“For your dream, for almost dying on you a couple times before, for being a brat. You know. For all of it. All the clone drama you've had to put up with over the years. And that you'll probably have to keep putting up with.”

Delphine kissed her back, holding her lips in hers for a moment before letting go. “You're worth it. And besides, I don't expect any upcoming clone drama to even remotely rival the drama with Neolution. Do you?”

“Oh, God, let's hope not.”

“We're safe now. I mean, as safe as anyone really is.”

She kissed the corner of Delphine's mouth, then the side of her nose and her temple. “I still think about it though, in like, fits and spurts. Sometimes I go days without even thinking or remembering that, hey, we didn't always have it this nice, you know. And then it hits me, like, I'll have a bad dream, or some smell will hit me, or I'll see someone who looks like Coady or Susan Duncan or whoever, and it all comes rushing back. Is it like that with you, too?”

Delphine gave her a small smile and stroked her face. “Yes. It is exactly like that.” 

Cosima wanted to say more, but a large yawn stifled her words, and she snuggled back against Delphine. When she spoke again, her voice slurred a little with sleepiness. “It's probably just being back here. Back in Toronto, back in this basement. Seeing Sarah again, all that. It's kind of hit me, too. There's a lot of memories here.”

“Yes, there are. But, we can make new ones. New memories.”

“Damn skippy we will.”

Delphine giggled and tugged the blankets higher to cover their shoulders. Cosima's body relaxed, but her mind kept going, catching on the rough edges of memories. “Are you okay?” Delphine asked.

“Yeah, I'm good. Just, you know. You got me thinking, too. About the power of memories, and how our brains just, like, snap us back in time without much warning.”

“Mmm. Yes, they do.”

“Like, there was that one clinic we were in, I think it was in Sucre, and they'd just had a patient come in bleeding all over the damn place, and the walls were just concrete, and it was damp, and something about the smell just...” 

She closed her eyes, but it wasn't the clinic she saw behind her eyelids. 

“Like, I didn't even register the smell first,” Cosima went on. “The memory hit me before the smell really clicked. I didn't have any choice about whether or not to remember.”

Delphine stroked her hair. “Which memory?” 

“The cage, and Janus. All that.”

Delphine hadn't learned about those details until after Westmoreland was dead, after the dust had settled on Neolution and various law enforcement agencies had tied up the loose ends. Delphine had stumbled across the partial tuxedo tucked in the back of the closet and asked Cosima if she would ever wear it again, and Cosima had told her the story. Cosima remembered how pale Delphine's face had gone, and how tightly she'd held her in her arms afterwards.

Delphine rubbed her back under the covers and nuzzled her hair. “You can talk about it more, if you want to.”

“I know. As I recall, though, we started talking about your inner demons, not mine.”

“I'll tell you more about mine in the morning.”

“Hmm. You promise?”

“I promise.”

“Do you promise to still be here in the morning when I wake up?”

She kissed Cosima's fingers. “Yes, I promise. There's nowhere else I want to be.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter follows the last chapter of Welcome to Clone Club (http://archiveofourown.org/works/12073659/chapters/27455616)  
> so it might help if you read that first, but I don't think it's absolutely critical that you do so.  
> 

Her throat woke her up on Wednesday morning, tickling and flaring until she coughed and floundered out of the blankets for her water bottle. After a few gulps, her throat calmed down, and she fell back onto the pillow. 

Gray light snuck into the room, looking like it was filtered through an iceberg, illuminating the lamps and the old stereo along the wall. Even without her glasses, Cosima knew exactly where everything was, which lampshades were stained or torn, the marbling on the walls, the dimensions of the weird little doors that opened into more wall. She coughed again, and looked to see how much blood there was this time. 

No blood. Not on her hands, and not on her pillow or her lips. And then she remembered. She was well now. Her cough was just a cough.

“Are you okay?” 

Delphine's face was tucked into the blankets and the pillow so that only her hair and her closed eyes were visible. Half of her hair had come loose from its binding to snake around her head. Cosima smiled, remembering the joy of once again finding Delphine's hairs on her bedding the morning after her arrival from Geneva. 

“Yeah, I'm okay. Did you sleep alright?”

“Mmm. Hnn?”

Cosima tucked a few strands behind Delphine's ear and followed the line of her jaw to her chin. “It's okay. Just keep resting.”

An hour later, when Delphine finally stumbled out of bed and into the bathroom, Cosima was finishing her first cup of chai and setting up some more vials for inoculations. The lab had been clean and well-stocked upon their arrival three days ago, meaning that the guys really had been keeping up with it, or they had done some last-minute magic to make it look like they had. The primary absence was Cosima pot crop, acquired with Felix's help when they moved in, and now distributed among various members and acquaintances of clone club. The Hendrix's even had one of the plants tucked into their garden.

After checking that all of their carefully acquired gear was in proper condition, she checked her email. There was one from her mother telling her the weather report in Toronto, as though Cosima didn't already know it was freezing. After that was another email from her advisor, asking to push back the date of their meeting in Minnesota by a week.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” 

She already had the plane tickets for her and Delphine, and a non-refundable hotel reservation for five days, which now her advisor said he could not do. Cosima swore again and pulled on her own face. She would have to deal with that later. For now, she forwarded the entire email chain to Alison with a note that said “Problems.” 

She was getting her second cup of chai ready when the upstairs door knocked. “Hello.....?”

“Come on down!” she cried, grinning as Scott bounded down the wooden steps into the lab. When he got to the bottom, she tackled him with a hug that forced him back a few steps. 

“Gosh it's good to see you!” he laughed. “This place is weird without any clones hanging around.”

“You mean Krystal wasn't dropping by every other day?” Cosima pulled back and gave him a good look. “By the way, what the hell is that on your face?”

Scott's exuberance faltered, and he touched his face, where patchy brown hair erupted in some asymmetrical places. “What? You don't like it?”

“Uh... Well, you know, I, uh.... It's different! It's just different, that's all.”

He squared his shoulders and stuck his jaw out. “Cora likes it.”

Cosima blinked and stood back. This was a new development. “Cora???”

The grin crept back onto Scott's face and he blushed. “Yeah, she's this girl who works at the university with me. She's super smart. You'd like her.”

“Cora...” Cosima sat on a laboratory stool and spun around once, her eyebrows raised. “Is she cute? Don't answer, actually. She's obviously cute, or you wouldn't have that look on your face. The question is, when do I get to meet her? You know I have to do a little, uh, quality assurance check before you're allowed to go out with her.”

He giggled and nodded. “Okay. I dunno when she can come by, though. She has kind of a long commute into town, and it's hard to find times when we can even hang out outside of work...”

Cosima rolled her eyes. “Yeah, okay, whatever. I see how this is gonna be.”

He spluttered, and Delphine crept out of the bathroom, arms crossed over her chest. “Oh, hey, Delphine!” he said, waving to her.

“Hello, Scott.” Delphine kept her arms tucked over her breasts as she gathered her clothes for the day. Meanwhile, Scott just grinned at both of them.

“It's just like old times, isn't it! Only, you're not dying, and Delphine's not breathing down my neck all the time to get you to come to work on time.”

Cosima groaned. “Or to give you another fucking fluid sample. I really don't miss that.” 

If Delphine had any thoughts about Scott's comment, she didn't say so, instead shuffling back into the bathroom to change clothes. Only then did Cosima notice that Delphine was wearing the puppy dog socks she'd bought for her in Mexico City, and she grinned. While Delphine got ready, she chatted more with Scott, catching up about his work at the University of Toronto, his cat, and his opinion on the newest Star Wars movie.

“No spoilers, though!” she said, holding up a finger. “I haven't seen it yet, and I'm taking Delphine to see it on Monday for her birthday. If you spoil it for me, Scott...”

“I know, I know, you'll cut off my manhood and feed it to some goats.”

“Correct.”

* * * * 

Driving to her parents' hotel, Cosima tapped her fingers on the steering wheel and chewed on a finger nail. She hated driving, but had left the Rabbit Hole later than Delphine wanted to, and now Delphine was doing her makeup in the passenger's seat. They'd spent the night talking over yesterday's meeting with Cosima's parents, about how much more to tell them and how to tell it, and about the extended family that Delphine would eventually get to meet. Cosima thought about her mother's parting words the night before. 

“And we look forward to learning a lot more about Del _phine_!” She'd leaned heavily on the last syllable of her name, in the same way that she'd exclaimed earlier, “oh, you're from _Paris!_ How wonderful!”

The light turned green, but the delivery van ahead wanted to make a left turn, so they all had to wait. Cosima tapped her fingers some more. 

“Are you worried?” Delphine asked.

“About what?”

“Anything. You're fidgeting.”

“Oh. Yeah.” The delivery van turned left, and she accelerated onwards, through downtown streets with wreaths on the light poles and Christmas displays in the windows. Delphine wasn't wrong, and they might not get to talk privately for the rest of the day. “Can I ask you something?”

Delphine smiled. “Of course, mon amour. Anything.”

“Do you parents know? About me, I mean?”

There was a pause from the passenger's seat, and then, “no. But they don't know very much about me at all, anymore. I told them when I moved to Canada, but not much more than that.”

“Hm.” 

They turned right and drove several blocks to a more residential section, and Cosima chewed on her lip. She'd always known that Delphine wasn't close to her parents, and she was in no position to criticize her for not telling her parents anything, considering the clone bomb she'd only just yesterday dropped on her own parents. With everything they'd been through together, though, it was only now occurring to her that Delphine was not even out to her parents. 

“Do want them to come to the wedding?” she asked. “Your parents, I mean.”

Delphine paused again and propped her face on her fingertips. “Maybe. It's not that important to me, you know. I haven't even thought about it.”

“You have some time, I guess. You don't have to know right now.”

* * * *

They got to the hotel's restaurant just before ten. A quick glance around told them they'd probably have it mostly to themselves, which was a relief. Talking about clone business in any public place could be tricky. They seated themselves in a booth near the window, looking out at the stone courtyard and smoker's area, far enough from the door to avoid a draft. Watching a man in a business suit suck on his cigarette and pace in the frozen air, Cosima took Delphine's hand in hers.

“I'm glad you quit.”

“What, smoking?”

“Yeah. You're not ducking outside all the time to light up, and it means I get to keep you around a little longer.”

Delphine snorted. “Says the woman who's been bemoaning the absence of her marijuana plants.”

“Hey, cannabis is way safer than tobacco; I've been telling you that for years now. It's the only thing that kept me eating when I was sick and living in the Rabbit Hole without you.”

They ordered coffee from Todd, a bored, pimple-faced young man in an ill-fitting silk vest, and looked over the menu. After months of travelling and eating their way through Latin America, it was both comforting and disappointing to find the same predictable items on this menu that Cosima could find at any hotel restaurant anywhere in North America. Delphine might've been thinking the same, because she said, “No rice and beans.”

“You miss `em?”

“Almost.”

“We can get some at the store for you. They can't be that hard to cook. Not compared to hollandaise sauce.”

At 10:15, after they'd turned away the waiter twice, saying they weren't ready, Delphine checked her phone and sighed. “Your parents gave you their sense of punctuality, I think. Do they know the restaurant stops serving breakfast at 10:30?”

“Yeah, they know. And it's all my mom. My dad's probably been ready to go for an hour, and he's just sitting on the couch waiting for her to do her hair or put her makeup on or whatever. Hey, how much you wanna bet these 'mixed fruit cups' are just pale honeydew melon and cantaloupe?”

Sally and Gene came in five minutes later, wearing sweaters and jeans. Even after spending several hours with them the day before, it was still a small shock for Cosima to see them again after so long away. They had aged more than she expected, but maybe that was the lack of contact making them seem that way. Maybe they'd always had so many wrinkles, and maybe her father had always shuffled that way when he walked, and had always had that wattle of skin below his chin. They were in their late sixties, after all, and her father would turn seventy in just a few months. 

“Hey, kiddo,” Gene said, clapping Cosima on the shoulder as she stood to greet them.

“So sorry we're late,” Sally said with a smile. “Have you been waiting long?”

“No,” they both answered. “Not long.”

The Niehauses slid into the booth across from Cosima and Delphine and ordered coffees for themselves when Todd reappeared. They exchanged morning pleasantries – yes, everyone had slept well; yes, they liked their room, and thank you for reserving it. They offered to pay Cosima back for the room, and she refused. Then they all ordered, and once Todd had gone again, Sally sat back in her seat with her hands folded over her stomach, and gave Cosima a measured look.

“You gave us a lot to think about yesterday, Sweetie.”

Cosima took a deep breath. “I know. It's a lot to take in, but you do get used to it. I did; we all did.”

“Two hundred.... how many did you say there are?”

“274,” Cosima said. “That's, I mean, those are the ones that are still living. There were more originally.”

“How many more?” Gene asked.

“We're not exactly sure. It was just this past summer that we learned the 274 number, after the organization behind the cloning was destroyed; before that we had no idea.”

Sally's breath shook, and she turned to stare out the window. Gene, on the other hand, nodded and tapped his fingers on the table. “That must've been hard for you to come to terms with. Having 274 genetic identicals, I mean, that's...”

“It was, a little. But, it's also fascinating. I mean, you saw last night, we're all completely different people, even though our DNA is identical. Well, I mean, almost entirely identical.”

Sally turned back at the last sentence. “What do you mean, almost entirely? I thought the point was that you were entirely identical, not almost?”

“In every way that anyone else would notice, we are completely identical, but each of us has a tag number encoded in our DNA that's used for identification purposes. Or, that was used for identification purposes. Nobody's identifying us like that anymore.”

“A _tag number?_ ”

At her mother's shock, Cosima remembered learning about her own tag number from Delphine, who now rubbed her finger against the side of Cosima's jeans in a silent show to support. “Yeah. The, um, Dyad, the group that ran the study, they put it there so they could tell us apart.”

“But... why not use your names, or your social security numbers, or....”

“Because we can change our names, and not all of us live in the US or Canada. It's like, you'd tag mice or rats for an experiment. It removes the personality and lets researchers focus on the science.”

“You're not a mouse, Cosima,” Gene said. 

“No, but as far as they were concerned, I might as well have been.”

Beside her, Delphine stepped in. “The experiments are all finished. No one is tracking the clones now, or running tests of any kind. All of that ended when Neolution collapsed earlier this year.”

“Neolution.” Sally and Gene looked at each other. “That does sound familiar,” Sally said.

“Yeah, they were doing all kinds of unethical stuff. Human cloning was just one part of it. You might've seen them on the news back in the spring.”

Todd returned with their plates, and there was the usual fuss of remembering who'd ordered what and exclaiming over how tasty it all looked. Cosima got the falafel salad – the most exotic item on the menu – and the fruit cup, which met her expectations except for two little blueberries tucked in with all the pale melon chunks. They ate quietly for a while, listening to the faint chatter from the restaurant staff across the room and the pop song playing in the lobby. The wall television, thankfully, was on mute, so the American politician's passionate words stayed silent.

Gene had finished all of his breakfast sides and gotten a refill on coffee when he leaned over his plate towards Delphine. “This whole cloning business must've hard for you to come to terms with, too, huh, Delphine?”

Delphine had just put a large forkful of omelet in her mouth, and froze, eyes wide. She and Cosima had discussed what to tell them about how they'd met, settling on “we met in Minnesota doing research.” They had not, however, prepared an answer for how Delphine had learned about clones. Whatever they said, though, Cosima did not want her parents to know about Delphine's role as monitor. Not yet. She wanted them to love Delphine first, and then learn about their complicated history.

“She took it pretty well in stride, I'd say.”

Delphine nodded while she chewed her food and swallowed. “Yes. It's fascinating, actually. I mean, obviously much of the research was unethical, but the science behind it is... fascinating.” 

Cosima nodded in agreement, but saw an internal struggle in her parents' faces. 

“Do you have a background in science, Delphine?” Sally asked. 

Delphine's eyebrows twitched as she smiled. In all of the hullabaloo the day before, somehow they had neglected to say anything about that. “Yes, I have a doctorate in immunology.”

“Oh!” Both Drs. Niehaus sat up a little straighter at that, and Cosima knew they were ninety percent of the way to loving Delphine already. She knew they would. After all, Cosima loved her, and she spoke French, her mother's college minor. Having a doctorate in a biological field was the extra cream cheese icing on the cake. The conversation slid away from Dyad and Neolution and into Delphine's research and medical background, which impressed Sally and Gene just as much as Cosima had expected. 

They were finishing up brunch and arguing over the check when Cosima's phone buzzed. It distracted her enough to let Sally grab the check and slap Cosima's hand away when she went for it again. 

“Did you just slap me?” Cosima asked.

“Yes.” Sally tucked her credit card into the flap and gave to it Todd. “You might not be _genetically_ related to me like I thought you were, but I am still your mother, Cosima, so you should listen to me and let me pay the bill.”

While Delphine laughed about that and Gene picked at his teeth, Cosima checked the new message on her phone. It was from Sarah.

_Slight emergency situation today. I need your help._

_Sure thing_ , Cosima replied. _What do you need?_

_My final exam is at 3, and Charlotte has a parent teacher conference at 2:45._

For a moment Cosima wondered how she could help with that, when it hit her. “Oh no.” 

_Which one exactly are you asking me to do for you?_

_The conference._

“Is everything okay?” Delphine asked. 

“Yeah. Yeah, Sarah just needs some help with Charlotte.”

Delphine checked her phone, which read 11:37. “It's Wednesday. Shouldn't she be in school right now?”

“Yeah, I think she is.” Delphine and both of her parents watched her, waiting for more of an explanation, but Cosima hesitated. Delphine knew about clone swaps; in fact, she'd organized an impressive triple-clone swap in her early days as Dyad director. Her parents, on the other hand... “There's a teacher conference for Charlotte this afternoon, and Sarah's not sure if she can make it.”

Delphine's eyebrows shot up, immediately comprehending the nature of Sarah's request, but Sally and Gene barely reacted. “Oh, that happens all the time,” Sally said. “Teachers understand parents are busy. She can probably reschedule.”

Cosima texted to see if she could. Meanwhile, Gene gnawed on the remains of his pork chop and looked confused. “Charlotte's another, uh.... another one like you, right?”

“She's a clone, yeah. They tried to restart the whole experiment several years back, but Charlotte was the only successful one.” She tried to keep her tone light, despite the horror of the situation.

“So, does she have, uh....” Gene waved his hands around in the air. “I mean, you have parents. You have us. And, and, the other lady yesterday, the one with the purple hair, she talked about her mother, so I assume she has parents, too.”

Cosima figured out his point and smiled, remembering how awkward he'd been after she came out of the closet, calling her a “homosexual” until she gave him permission to use the words “lesbian” and “queer.”

“It's a little more complicated with Charlotte,” she told him. “She had a adoptive mother, legally, but she didn't spend much time with her, and she's presumed dead now.”

Not until she saw her parents' faces did Cosima realize how those last words came across. Until now, the only other people she'd ever talked to about Marion Bowles were other members of Clone Club, who had long since ceased being shocked by the words “presumed dead.”

“Sarah's her legal guardian now,” Delphine explained. “She's been living with her for a few months now.”

“Ah.” Gene fidgeted with his lower lip, the way he did when was working out a problem in his head.

“The poor little thing,” Sally said. “What do you mean, _presumed dead_ though? Is her mother missing?”

Delphine stepped in again. “Her mother had a position of some authority in Neolution's hierarchy, and before they went down for good, they, euh, restructured many of those top-level positions. Considering the illegal and sensitive nature of their work, they didn't want to just release former leadership into the world to share their secrets, so they, um... they often had them eliminated. To protect the research and the organization. Since no one has heard from Miss Bowles in almost two years, and all attempts to find her have failed, we think it's safe to assume that she's been killed.”

Todd came back to the table with the receipt for Sally to sign, but Sally and Gene were gaping too much to notice him.

“Are you serious?” Gene asked.

“Unfortunately,” Cosima said, “yes. We are. Like I said yesterday, there are reasons why I didn't want you to know any of this before now. It just wasn't safe.” 

“But were _you_ safe?” Sally asked. “You and.... and the others like you?”

Cosima wanted to ask what time period, exactly, she was referring to, but decided that her mother mostly just needed reassurance right now. Details could come later. “Yes,” she said. “I was safe.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one has a lot more Charlotte in it.

When Sarah finally responded to Cosima's question about rescheduling, Delphine was driving them all to Sarah's house, though Cosima still thought of it as Siobhan's. Gene sat in the front passenger seat, chatting with Delphine about kelp forests off the coast of California, and Sally and Cosima were in the back, zoning in and out. It was 12:20 pm, putting Charlotte's parent-teacher conference less than two and a half hours away.

_I've rescheduled four times already_ , Sarah texted. _Two of those because I forgot. Can't do it again._

_We're almost at your house,_ Cosima typed, needing some more time to think about this before committing. _Can we talk about it then?_

_K_

Cosima had never impersonated Sarah, only Alison, and that had gone south fast as soon as she needed to actually talk to people, rather than just be Alison-shaped. Sarah was the family chameleon, after all, but from what she heard, Alison could do a passable Sarah Manning, as well. 

_Have you asked Alison to do it?_

_Yeah. She's busy, and she's says it's my responsibility._

That sounded like Alison. Cosima slid her phone back into her pocket and chewed on her thumbnail. 

Sarah greeted them at the door when they arrived at the house, and behind her they saw Helena trying to feed the boys in the kitchen. A squeal erupted from one of them just as Cosima and Delphine stepped over the threshold, Dr. and Dr. Niehaus behind them. 

“Yeah,” Sarah said, “We're trying to convince them that throwing food's not a good idea. So far they're not convinced.”

Sally patted Cosima's back as Sarah offered to take their coats. “Oh, Cosima used to throw her food, too, you know. For a couple of years, in fact.”

“Oh, Jesus.” Cosima shed her coat and wanted to complain, but Delphine looked so utterly charmed by the image that she kept her mouth shut. 

Gene nodded. “Yeah, we kind of had to feed her in a bubble and wrap ourselves in plastic. But she got better eventually.”

Once her parents were busy cooing over the babies in the kitchen, Cosima maneuvered Sarah into the opposite side of the living room, where Delphine settled onto the couch with a glass of water. 

“Sarah, do you seriously want me to go to Charlotte's teacher conference as _you_?” Cosima hissed.

Sarah sighed and leaned against the wall. “I know, I know. It's... terrible parenting or.... sistering, or whatever. I've already gotten the earful from Alison. But, listen, it shouldn't be that hard.”

“Not that hard? Sarah, you're the guardian, not me.”

“Right, but this teacher's never met me. Just say you're me, and no one's gonna know.”

“No one except Charlotte,” Delphine said. 

Sarah pushed her palms against her forehead and sighed. “Look, Charlotte knows what's up. She's a smart kid; we can explain it to her later, if we even have to. She'll probably figure out for herself why it's you there instead of me.”

Sarah wasn't wrong, but Cosima's heart ached for her little sister, expected to deal with clone swaps as a matter of course at the age of eleven. “I mean, yeah, she'll figure it out. That's not really what I'm worried about. Can't you try rescheduling your exam? Take it tomorrow in the professor's office or something?”

Sarah shook her head. “No. He's made it very clear, all semester, that we need emergency documentation in order to do that, and he gave us a list of acceptable documents. He also made it clear that child care and previous appointments do not count as emergencies.”

“Shit.” Cosima couldn't remember any professor having that policy in any of her classes, but maybe they just hadn't needed to. She looked at the clock. It was 12:55. “How far away is the school?”

“About a mile away. Charlotte takes the bus, though, `cause, you know.” Sarah gestured to her own leg. “So I never got a parking pass for the lot, and it's super expensive to park close by. Which means you'll have to walk or get Delphine to drop you off.”

Getting to the school was the least of Cosima's concerns. A mile meant she could walk there in about twenty minutes at a relaxed pace, and she had missed walking since they'd gotten back. “You said the teacher hasn't met you before, but haven't the office staff met you?”

“Only the first day, when I registered her.”

“So they probably noticed you have a British accent, and they'll notice that I don't.”

Sarah squirmed. “Yeah, maybe, but that was in August, and now it's December. That's four months for everyone to forget what I sound like.”

“A sibling guardian with a British accent isn't going to be that hard to forget, Sarah! That's two things that make you stand out from all the other adults who've registered their kids there this year. Plus, with Charlotte's leg brace, and the fact that she's in a traditional school for the first time ever, she's a memorable kid in general. Someone will remember you, and they will notice that I am different from you!”

While Sarah leaned back and rubbed her face, Sally came in, bouncing Arthur on her hip. “What's all the fuss in here, girls?”

“Nothing,” both Cosima and Sarah said. 

 

* * *

An hour later, Sarah drove off to her final exam at the community college, and Cosima sat in Sarah's bedroom, formerly Siobhan's bedroom, papers scattered around and her laptop on her legs. Her parents were wrapped up with the babies downstairs, telling stories about baby Cosima to whatever adult would listen, while Cosima read the documents Sarah gave her regarding Charlotte's life in Toronto. She had fifteen minutes to familiarize herself before getting ready to leave.

“What the hell am I doing?” she muttered, and reminded herself that she was doing this for her sisters.

Charlotte had a social insurance card, magically created birth certificate, and all other relevant documentation in a manila envelope with her name on it. She was up to date on her vaccinations and yearly physicals, though her doctor recommended physical therapy for her leg, which Charlotte, apparently, was not interested in. There was also a note in one of her medical forms mentioning the possibility of surgery, but warning about complications in a growing girl. Cosima made a mental note to follow up on that later. 

She already knew about Charlotte's grades, but she still looked over Charlotte's report cards and the notes and emails from her teachers. The most recent email, forwarded to Cosima by Sarah, expressed “ongoing concern” about Charlotte's interactions with her classmates. It came from a Mrs. Christina Moore, Charlotte's homeroom teacher, the same women requesting the conference.

“She'll be happy to see you, I think.”

Cosima turned to see Delphine come in, which meant her mother was bending Helena's ear now. “Maybe. Or maybe she'll think Sarah's just passing her off onto someone else. Which, okay, yeah, she actually is.” She tossed the most recent report card onto the pile of papers and wondered what the hell she was going to tell Mrs. Moore.

Delphine perched on the edge of the bed. “Yes, she is. But I don't think she means to.”

“No, I know she doesn't. She just... she forgets things all the time, or things don't always occur to her that should.”

“That sounds like you, sometimes.”

“I've never forgotten to take care of a kid.”

“You've never had a kid to forget to take care of.”

Cosima wanted to argue that that was not the point, that of course she would do a better job than Sarah was doing now, but Delphine was giving her that “You know I'm right” look, and at any rate it was 2:12 now, and she needed to get ready to go. She closed the laptop and gathered up the papers into the manilla envelope. “Maybe not. I just feel bad for Charlotte, that's all. She's eleven, for fuck's sake. She didn't ask for any of this.”

“No. Neither did Sarah. And neither did you.”

She leaned back against the headboard and met her gaze, then stretched out one foot to poke Delphine's knee. “I guess not. But you did. You sure you want to marry into this clone madness?”

Delphine grabbed her foot with both hands and pretended to trap it. “Positive. As long as no one pretends to be you again without giving me a heads up first. Now go. Make Charlotte proud.”

* * * 

The school was a pleasant walk away, with the sidewalks all clear of snow and ice, through a neighborhood decorated with Christmas figures and the occasional menorah. Still unused to the cold after so many months down south, Cosima bundled herself in her red wool coat, scarf, hat, and gloves. At the school's entrance, a security guard directed her to the office, where she signed in and showed them Sarah's driver's license. Sarah had taken Cosima's, just in case she got pulled over for anything, which Cosima desperately hoped wouldn't happen. The woman behind the desk blinked up at her dreadlocks for a moment, then wrote Sara Maning on a visitor's pass for Cosima to stick to her chest. 

“Christina Moore's in room 224. That's upstairs.” Before Cosima could even thank her, she turned her attention to the man next in line, so Cosima saw herself out of the office. 

“That was easy,” she muttered.

Across the hall from the office, in a large room that looked like it served dual duty as cafeteria and auditorium, at least fifty children hung out, ran around, or looked at their phones, none of them batting an eye when Cosima entered. Three faculty members stood together in a corner, doing the bare minimum required to claim that the children were being supervised. On the opposite side of the room, on a grey folding chair, Cosima saw Charlotte, alone, her nose buried in a book. Cosima walked over.

“Hey, kiddo.”

Charlotte looked up at Cosima's voice and blinked several times, then saw the name tag. “Oh.”

“Is it okay that I'm here? She has an exam she can't really miss. But, if you want, I'll go. I don't have to be the one to talk to your teacher.”

Charlotte shrugged. “It's okay with me. I don't really know what she wants to talk about.”

“Sarah hasn't told you?”

Another shrug. “Kind of.”

“Okay, well, are you ready?”

Charlotte did not move. “For what? The conference is for Sarah – I mean, you, I guess – and the teacher.”

“The conference is _about you_ , though. Don't you want to be there?”

Charlotte picked at a spot on her nose until Cosima gently took her hand away and crouched down in front of her. “Hey. I don't want to talk to someone _about_ you without involving you in the conversation. You're the most important person in this whole... ordeal. If you don't want to be involved, that's totally cool, I get that, but you need to know that you have the choice. And if you don't want me to go in there and pretend that I'm the one who's in charge of you, or whatever, that's your choice, too. We can wait until Sarah has an open day in her schedule, and she can come in then. No problem.”

Tears threatened in Charlotte's eyes, but she shook her head. “It's okay. We can do it today.”

“You're okay with me talking to your teacher?”

“Yes. It's okay.”

“A'right. I'm gonna need your help, though, because as much as you've told me about school and everything, I haven't exactly been around the whole time you've been going here. Not like Sarah has. So I might need you to fill in some gaps for me.”

“Is that the real reason you want me to come with you?”

“I... no. No! I meant everything I said just now. If you want to stay down here, I'll do just fine. It would just be extra nice to have you there.”

Charlotte's head was turned and she looked at Cosima with a tiny smile. “Okay.”

“Okay, let's go meet Mrs. Moore, then.”

Charlotte stood and tucked her book away, but not before Cosima got a look at the title: _The Chronicles of Pern._ She didn't get to see which book in the series it was, but she pointed at it and said, “I used to love those books. My grandma always said I shouldn't read them, though.”

“Why?”

“Oh, probably `cause there's sex in them. That was my dad's mom, though; my mom's mom is way more open-minded.”

She thought she saw a hint of pink in Charlotte's cheeks, but in a moment Charlotte had hoisted her massive backpack onto her shoulders and led the way down a hallway towards a wide stairwell lined with inspirational posters. Cosima followed behind as Charlotte pulled herself up each step, her braced leg unable to help her up. 

At the landing, Charlotte paused to readjust her backpack near a poster with multicolored words reading, “You never fail until you stop trying.” Cosima agreed with the general sentiment, but in this context it made her want to commit a minor act of vandalism. 

“Does the school not have an elevator?” she asked.

“It does,” Charlotte said, “but it's all the way on the other side of the building, and it shakes a lot. Plus, it's really slow, and there's always a guard making sure that only the disabled kids use it.”

_You are disabled,_ Cosima wanted to point out, but she held back. It wasn't her place to tell Charlotte how to identify, after all, and she remembered how she, herself, had hated being “accommodated” when she was sick. She still balked at the fact that Delphine had once pushed her in a wheelchair, and that was a long time ago.

In a few minutes they arrived at room 224. The door was open, but Cosima knocked anyway. Mrs. Moore turned out to be much younger than Cosima'd expected, possibly a little younger than Cosima herself. She was slender, in a conservative grey dress and white cardigan, and she reminded Cosima of a flute player she used to know in college. The room was spacious, and used mostly as a geography room, based on the maps and pictures of multi-ethnic people decorating the walls. The desks were small tables with two chairs each and baskets for student materials underneath. 

Mrs. Moore rose to greet them, but paused when she saw Charlotte a step behind Cosima. “Oh,” she said with a smile, “normally, for parent-teacher conferences, the student stays downstairs in the cafeteria.”

Cosima smiled back to show goodwill, but said, “I know, but I thought it would be helpful for Charlotte to be present for this one. I want to make sure she has an active role in all of this.”

Fortunately, Mrs. Moore could roll with that. She gestured for them to sit together at a student desk while she took the one next to it. She had a folder labelled “Charlotte Bowles-Duncan,” and Cosima did not miss Charlotte's physical reaction to seeing her name there. She put her hand on Charlotte's back and gave her a smile.

“So,” Mrs. Moore began, “just to make sure I have everything right here, you're Charlotte's sister, right?”

“Yes, I am.”

“And she's been living with you for... four months?”

“Five,” Charlotte said.

“Five months, okay.” Mrs. Moore made a note of that and went on. “And there's one other child living in the home, your daughter Kira?”

For a second, Cosima forgot she wasn't Sarah and almost corrected her, but remembered just in time. “Um, yeah, yeah, just her. And us.”

“Okay. And Kira is how old?”

“She's nine.”

“Okay. Great, thanks. I know it seems unimportant, but knowing what's going on at home can really help when we work with students, especially for any behavioral or psychological issues that come up. And she was homeschooled before this year, right?”

Cosima was getting uncomfortable talking about Charlotte as though she weren't there, but Charlotte spoke up to answer that one. “No. I told you before, I took online classes. I wasn't homeschooled.”

“Right. Okay.” Mrs. Moore put both hands on top of her folder and looked from Cosima to Charlotte and back again. “Well, Ms. Manning, as I've told you before via email, Charlotte's acadmic work has been very good, but she seems to be having some problems with other kids here.”

Cosima nodded. She'd heard plenty from Charlotte about two girls in particular, Amy and Sophie, who made fun of her a lot. “Yeah, that's what Charlotte's told me, too.”

“Okay, good. I'm glad she's talked to you about it some.” Mrs. Moore looked encouraged, and nodded. “What has she told you?”

Looking at Charlotte for permission first, Cosima said, “She says she call her names and make faces at her, and sometimes they take things from her desk when she's not looking.”

Mrs. Moore nodded more cautiously this time, and Cosima saw another side of the story lurking around the conversational corner. Before it came, though, Charlotte spoke up. 

“Sophie called me an uptight bitch this afternoon.”

Cosima could think of a few people she'd called that, privately, herself, but Charlotte didn't really fit that description. Did she? 

“That's right,” Mrs. Moore said. “And what happened before that?”

“Emma Dewey was talking over everybody about whatever stupid boy on the internet she has a crush on. She was sitting in my desk!”

Cosima had a sinking feeling about where this was going, but she let Mrs. Moore ask the follow-up, “And then what did you do?”

“I told her she was stupid and he was ugly and I wanted my desk back.”

_Oh boy._ Cosima turned to face Charlotte, blocking out the teacher for a few moments. “You told her she was stupid?”

“She is.”

Cosima shook her head. “Charlotte.... no one is stupid. Okay? Even if you don't like them, it's never okay to call someone stupid. Especially not for, what, liking a boy on the internet? I know, these girls are a year older than you, so they might be more comfortable talking about boys than you are, but, listen, lots of girls talk about cute boys.” Cosima rambled on, feeling like she was not getting across the point she'd wanted to get across.

Charlotte tightened her lips and looked into the space between Cosima and Mrs. Moore. “You don't.”

She'd hoped that no part of the conference would swing in that direction, even if she knew Sarah sometimes dated girls, too. “That doesn't matter. I've done a lot of other things that people find ridiculous. I mean, look, it's okay to be upset that she was in your desk, right? But if that's what you were upset about, that's what you should have said. Did she ask you what you thought about the boy?”

“No one asks me my opinion, ever.”

Mrs. Moore coughed. “Actually, Charlotte, sometimes they do.”

Charlotte had no response to that. She picked at her chin until Cosima took her hand away again, and then she picked at the skin around her fingernails, like Cosima had seen Sarah doing a few times. Since Charlotte was quiet, she turned to Mrs. Moore. “Can you tell me more about that?”

“Well, Charlotte's a very bright girl, and the other students know that. They know she had some more advanced courses before, so sometimes they ask her to check their homework or what she thinks might be an easy topic for a project. They haven't asked you in a while, though, have they, Charlotte?”

_Oh, boy,_ Cosima thought again. 

“That's not asking for my opinion. That's asking me to do their work for them. They're just lazy.”

“And, I remember Simon asking you once if you wanted to play a game with him and his friends a few months ago, but you told him his game was stupid. Do you remember that?”

“No. Maybe. I don't know.”

Cosima sighed and leaned her face against one hand before she addressed that topic. _Uptight bitch, indeed,_ she thought. “I mean, I get not wanting to do someone else's work for them, but...” How could she phrase this? She already knew, from hours of talking to Charlotte on Skype, that Charlotte felt worlds behind the kids in her class, and even from the sixth graders who were her age. Was this just Charlotte's way of compensating for that?

“Can I just -?” Charlotte cut the question off short and fell back against her chair.

“Just what?” Cosima asked.

“Never mind. I'll ask you later.”

There was a knock on the door, and Mrs. Moore checked the time. “I'm afraid we need to wrap up for today, Ms. Manning. I would like to continue this conversation, though, after the break. I'll send you an email with some dates to consider, okay?”

Cosima nodded, wondering how differently this conference might have gone if Sarah had been able to attend. Sarah would be able to impersonate Cosima well enough for the next conference, too, thankfully.

As they made their way back down the stairs, a girl in a Canadian-flag patterned hijab bounced down the stairs beside them and gave Charlotte a wave and a smile. The girl was thin and about four feet tall, and she skipped away down the hallway as Charlotte thumped down one step at a time. 

“She seems nice,” Cosima said. “Have you told me about her?”

“I dunno.”

Cosima wondered if she'd ever been this obstinate as a child. She'd have to ask her parents when they got back to the house. “Can you tell me her name, at least?”

“Her name's Latifa. She's from Syria.”

“Oh, cool.”

“Yeah, but people say nasty things about her, too. They say her parents are terrorists, or that she shouldn't be here. Noah Watley pulls on her hijab on the bus. Most kids don't even know that it's called a hijab. They just call it her 'head thing' or whatever. And they make fun of the way she talks, but she's only been speaking English for a year, and most of them don't even speak another language!” 

They'd reached the bottom of the stairs and Cosima looked down the hallway where Latifa had vanished. “That's awful,” she said.

“I keep telling you, kids here are stupid. And I know you just told me not to call people that, but they are! They're stupid and they're mean.”

It wasn't the time to argue with her, as Charlotte's eyes filled with tears, and Cosima remembered the other little girl in a hijab that Charlotte had befriended at Revival. She pulled Charlotte close and wrapped her arms around her little sister. “You can be upset,” she said into the top of Charlotte's head. “I'll never tell you you can't be upset, especially when people are mean like that.”

Charlotte did not cry, but held onto Cosima for several minutes, even as faculty and staff members wandered by and gave them curious looks. “Why can't I just live with you?” she asked, her voice muffled by Cosima's scarf. 

“Come on, Charlotte, you know the answer to that.”

“Tell me again.”

She sighed and loosened her arms, but Charlotte still held on tight, making Cosima wonder how many hugs Charlotte got. How many she had ever gotten. 

“You can't live with _us_ because we're moving all the time, and sometimes we have to pick up and go to another country with, like, an hour's notice. And sometimes we're in places that would really hard for you to get around in with your leg, and there wouldn't always be much for you to do, and...”

“I can always find things to do. I'm good at that. And I can get along just fine with my leg; you've seen me!”

Cosima pulled back and gave her sister a measured look. “I've seen you walk, but you have a hard time, whether you like admitting it or not.”

Charlotte stepped back now, too, and wiggled in a little kid way, but she was smiling. “But don't you remember on the island? I walked with you for, like, an hour, through the woods, in the dark!”

“Yes, because the village was on fire! We didn't have much of a choice, and that was one time. That wasn't every day, a couple times a day.”

A group of boys walked by, looking at Charlotte but not saying anything, and she returned their silence. To Cosima, they did not seem malicious, simply curious about why the new girl with the leg brace was still here, talking to some woman with dreadlocks in the hallway. After they passed, she pulled out her phone to text Delphine.

“Delphine's gonna come pick us up, is that okay?”

Charlotte pouted, but said, “I guess so.”

“What do you mean, you guess so?” Cosima had only asked the question out of habit. She had never imagined any possible answer other than “sure” or “yes.” 

Charlotte punctuated her sigh with an eye roll. “I mean I guess so. I mean it's fine. Whatever. Is she on her way now?”

“Yes, but if you'd rather walk home, I can tell her to turn around.”

“I said it's fine. Come on. She'll probably be here in a few minutes.”

Cosima stood in the middle school hallway, cell phone in hand, and watched her youngest and most vulnerable sister limp away until she reached the junction with the main hall and turned back around. 

“Cosima, are you coming or not?”

“Yeah, yeah, I'm on my way. I'll be right there.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was going to write the Christmas chapter, but there's no way I'm letting Delphine's birthday slip away unwritten about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most of this is Cosima's POV, but a couple scenes early on are Delphine's POV. I wrote them a while back and liked them too much not to include them. Hopefully you'll like them all!

“Oh, Cosima, I've been meaning to ask you – why don't you or Delphine have rings?”

Cosima looked up to see Alison hovering beside her. Her head had been buried in her laptop, looking up indoor pools and swimming lessons for Charlotte, and her first thought of “rings” was of the colorful plastic rings they used to dive after when Cosima was little. Across the table from her, Delphine just gave her a doe-eyed look and blinked, hand still resting on the Sunday crossword.

“Rings?” she asked.

“Yes, engagement rings. You keep saying that you're engaged, but I don't see rings on either of your fingers. Well, except for your usual clunky pieces.”

“My _pieces_?” Cosima said, smiling and spinning one of her thumb rings around. “You make it sound like I'm wearing guns on my fingers.”

“That doesn't answer my question.”

Cosima's mother overheard and appeared over Delphine's shoulder. “You know, I was wondering the same thing. Most girls can't wait to show off their rings, but you don't even have one.”

“Yeah, we're not like most girls.” That much should have been obvious, she thought.

Alison lowered her voice a bit. “You know, Cosima,” she whispered, “if it's a matter of money, we could...”

Not for the first time, Cosima thought of the 15,000 euro ring Delphine had once received, and how some rings she'd seen online even came with hefty insurance policies. She and Delphine had talked about that. She and Alison had not.

“It's not a matter of money,” she said.

Delphine reached across the table and took Cosima's hand. “We're waiting until we get to Paris,” she said. “There are some stores there I want to look at, and some jewelers my parents know that might be able to make us some custom ones.”

Cosima's eyebrows went up, but both Alison and Sally were dramatic enough that Cosima could safely recover herself. Sally swooned and Alison swatted Cosima's shoulder, scolding her for not just saying so in the first place.

“It's not something we're telling everyone,” Delphine went on. “We don't want to sound pretentious.”

“Oh, don't be silly!” Sally cried, taking the chair next to Cosima. “That sounds like the most romantic thing I've heard all year, and there's nothing pretentious about romance. By the way, I don't think we've heard the story yet. Who asked whom, and how?”

They hadn't told anyone yet, had they? Somehow, five days after announcing their engagement, they hadn't really talked about it with anyone. Sure, there had been some comments here or there – they planned to marry in Toronto, the date was up in the air but certainly more than a year away, and yes, everyone in Clone Club was invited. Otherwise, though, it just hadn't come up. There had been the business with Charlotte's school, then a couple long drives to the country with Charlotte to give her and Cosima some needed one-on-one time. Sally and Gene spent as much time, or more, getting to know Cosima's new clone family as they did talking to Cosima herself, and every member of clone club had their own drama to talk about. Once the fact of Delphine and Cosima's engagement was accepted, no one had asked about it. Until now.

“She asked me,” Delphine said. “In a park in Mexico.”

“I'm not surprised,” Alison said. “We sestras tend be to assertive, don't we?”

“ _Sestras_ ,” Sally said, shimmying as she ate another peanut. “That is such a cute little word, I think. And yes, Cosima's always been assertive. I'm not surprised, either.”

“I asked Donnie, you know,” Alison said. “Well, more like told him.”

“Aww, really?” The image in Cosima's mind was adorable, of college-aged Alison and Donnie.

There was a thump on the basement door and Alison opened it to reveal Helena, in pajama pants and a mustard-stained T-shirt, holding a baby in each arm. With a day's work, Donnie, Sarah, and Oscar had converted the basement into a useable living unit for Helena and the twins, for as long as it took for the Hendrix's water and housing situation to sort itself out. 

“Hallo, Sestra Alison,” Helena said. “You look very nice this morning.”

“Well, thank you.” Alison wore a black pencil skirt and a white blouse with a black blazer, and her little gold cross necklace gleamed against her blouse. “We're, um, heading off to church in about twenty minutes, and I was hoping you'd join us. You could bring the boys, of course.”

“No.”

Cosima leaned back in her chair to watch the interaction. She knew Alison had succeeded in getting the girls, but not Sarah, to attend this new church in the city, but inviting Helena was something different.

Alison nodded and twisted her hands around. “I see. Well, if you change your mind...”

“No church.”

Helena walked through the kitchen to the living room, saying hello to everyone as she passed and apparently putting the conversation with Alison behind her. She set the boys on the living room floor and sat with them, getting a stuffed bear from the couch for them to play with. 

“Maybe we can bring the boys with us, then?” Alison called out. “Give you a few hours off, huh? The church has a wonderful nursery...”

“No. No church.” Helena turned then to fix Alison with a stare that went well with a bow and arrow, or a sniper rifle. 

“Okay. No problem. Just, just thought I'd ask.” 

A few minutes later, Charlotte and Kira came downstairs, wearing Christmas-colored dresses. Kira still wore bows in her hair, but Charlotte's was done up in a bun that reminded Cosima of a librarian, or maybe Beth Childs. “Oh, you girls look nice!” she said.

Charlotte limped over to Cosima and leaned on her shoulder. “Are you coming, too?” she asked.

“To church? No, I think I'll be staying here.”

“How come?” Kira asked. “You're not like my mom or Helena.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

Charlotte supplied the answer. “It means you don't have problems with authority like they do.”

Cosima tried not to be too offended by the way her mother laughed at that statement, or by Delphine's little snort. “Okay, well, I'm not getting into _that_ right now, but I still don't think I'm going to church with you guys. It's just not really my thing.”

Kira's attention was already redirected to Delphine's crossword puzzle, but Charlotte hung on. “We went last Sunday and it was a lot of fun. We sang Christmas songs, and the minister was really interesting. He talked about the connections between the Christmas story and the Syrian refugees.”

Cosima wasn't sure that a person needed to sit in church to figure out that connection, but before she could say so, her mother rose and tapped her shoulder. “Maybe you should go, sweetheart. You know your father and I didn't do a great job putting religion in you as a kid; it could be good for you now.”

“That's because Dad hates church, and you're a non-practicing Jew, and since when do you want me to be religious?”

Whatever her mother said was swallowed by the faucet as she poured herself a glass of water, but Alison's eyes had that excited gleam that made Cosima more than a little nervous. She thought fast.

“Besides,” she said, “I've already got plans with Sarah today.”

“Plans?” Delphine asked. She looked like she would say more, maybe something along the lines of “you were so excited about having no plans today,” but Cosima kicked her under the table, and she shut her mouth.

“Yeah. We're doing some Christmas shopping together, so you guys aren't invited. In fact, I should go remind her that we're leaving soon.” With that, she closed her laptop and went upstairs, where Sarah was more than happy for a reason to get out of the house for a few hours.

***

***

After Cosima left, Delphine sat in the living room armchair and watched Sally Niehaus and Helena playing with the babies while Gene dozed on the sofa. In the kitchen, Helena mixed the ingredients for banana nut bread, following a recipe Alison gave her. It was part of the on-going effort to make her self-sufficient in a way that didn't involve store-bought lollipops and unheated cans of ravioli.

Sally seemed to be fully in her element, trotting a little stuffed horse around the living room and having it jump onto the boys' heads or laps and making them laugh. It was easy to imagine her playing with baby Cosima this way, and Delphine thought of her own mother, who never talked about Delphine's infancy. Her mother, who was tight-lipped in all of the early photographs of her and Delphine, tolerating her daughter and paying other people to change the diapers, bathe, and feed her. 

_”Do your parents know about me?”_ Cosima had asked. _“Do you want them to come to the wedding?”_

She shook her head and pushed those feelings out of the way for the time being. The past was painful, but the present was beautiful, so she got out her phone, settled onto the floor, and took a series of pictures of the boys with Helena and.... was Sally their great-aunt? It didn't really matter. She was part of their family. When Arthur reached his arms to Helena and said, “Up! Up!” Delphine switched to video mode.

“Oh, they are just too precious,” Sally said, not for the first time. “Yes, you are, you are such beautiful little boys, both of you!”

Helena did that little lip-biting smile of hers as she hoisted Arthur up over her head before settling him on her hip. “Yes, they are beautiful little boys. And they are getting much bigger.”

“Oh, yes. They grow so quickly at this age.” Little Donnie had crawled into Sally's lap, and she stroked his light brown hair. “This one looks more like you, I think, because I can see Cosima in him. Don't you think, Delphine?”

Delphine turned off the video on her phone. Honestly, she couldn't see much of Cosima in either one of them. “I don't know,” she offered. 

“Well, I think so. Out of curiosity, what does their father look like?” Sally shifted a little as she asked, apparently aware of the potential awkwardness of the question, especially since there had been no mention of a father in the five days they'd been here. 

“Dead,” Helena said. “He looks dead.”

Sally's face reddened instantly. “Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have asked, I'm so sorry.”

Helena cocked her head. “Do not be sorry. It's good that he is dead.” The oven beeped then, indicating it was fully preheated, and Helena put Arthur back down so she could put the loaf pan in to bake.

As Helena walked away, Sally turned to Delphine, little Donnie still in her lap, and Delphine had to smile at her confused horror. “I...”

“It's okay. You didn't know.”

“Can I ask,” Sally whispered, “what happened?”

Delphine licked her lips and thought about skirting the issue, but Helena had never seemed ashamed of her boys' origins, or the fate of their father, at least not since Delphine had known her. “The babies weren't, euh... That is, the pregnancy was not 100% consensual.”

“Oh.... oh no.” Sally looked down at little Donnie, who had his head snuggled against her breast. “That's terrible.” Then she glanced back to the kitchen, where Helena was carefully punching the time into the over timer and licking batter from the spoon. When Helena returned to the living room, she noticed the look on Sally's face and cocked her head to the side again. 

“What is up?”

“Oh, Delphine just told me...” She waved her hand around in a very Cosima-like way. 

“I told her a little about, euh, about how you got the boys,” Delphine said. “Not very much, though.”

“Oh. Yes. They are science babies, like us.”

“Science babies...” Across the floor, Arthur used the bookshelf to pull himself to his feet, and Donnie crawled over to try it himself. Sally watched. “They're not clones, though, are they?”

Delphine didn't miss that Sally directed the question to her, rather than Helena, so she looked pointedly at Helena herself, letting her answer.

“No, they are not clones. They are miracle babies. Yes, Little Arthur, you are very tall!”

Sally's face relaxed some, and she smiled at nothing in particular. Still facing Delphine, she said, “You know, we used to call Cosima that. Our little miracle child.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. It took us years to conceive; she might've told you. We'd almost given up, but a friend recommended this clinic all the way down in Bakersfield doing experimental treatements, and, well...” She held up her hands. “Nine months later we had Cosima.”

Delphine had heard parts of that story before from Cosima, and hints of it from Sally herself during their visit, and it always made her smile. As terrible as Dyad's cloning experiment had been in so many ways, the fact of Cosima's existence was always wonderful. 

Sally laughed a little. “We just didn't know how _experimental_ those treatments were, did we?”

Delphine smiled in return, but Helena watched very seriously. “You wanted babies very much, yes?”

“Yes, we did. We were looking at adoption, too, of course. Gene, especially, didn't really care as much about the biological piece, but I'd always wanted to have one of my own.” As she finished her sentence, Sally realized the reality of her words and her situation, and her smile slipped. 

“Sestra Cosima is very lucky. She has a good mother.”

* *

After Cosima and Delphine dropped her parents off at their hotel that night, Cosima nudged her fiancée. “So we're waiting until we get to Paris to get engagement rings, are we? Is that your actual plan, or were you just shutting my family up?”

Delphine turned the ignition and shrugged. “Can't it be both?”

Cosima Niehaus surprised into silence was a rare enough sight that Delphine let the car idle so she could watch her gape. 

“The specialty jewelers bit, too?” Cosima managed after a moment. “I mean, I know your parents aren't exactly peasants, but was that part real, too?”

“I was serious about seeing a specialty jeweler, _if_ you're interested, but I might have stretched it a little saying my parents know them. They were recommended by a friend, but there's no personal connection. It was easier in the moment to just say my parents know them.”

“Recommended by a friend?”

Delphine took a deep breath and headed off towards the Rabbit Hole. “Yes.”

“You've been thinking about this.” 

“A little bit.”

Cosima hooked her forefinger around Delphine's pinky and grinned that adorable Cosima grin. “So you're gonna claim me before the wedding after all, huh?”

“Only if you let me.”

“Oh, I'll let you. Don't worry about that.”

***

***

On Monday morning, Cosima's phone buzzed under her pillow while the sky was still dark. For a second, she cursed whoever was bothering her, but when she fumbled with the screen, she saw the alarm signal, preset to wake her up at 5:00 am. 

“Chérie?” Delphine murmured. 

“Shhhh, it's okay, love. Just go back to sleep. It's fine.” She kissed Delphine's warm soft face twice, then three times, before she crawled out into the cool basement air and padded to the bathroom. Once there, she peed in the dark and cursed the loudness of the flush and the faucet of the sink. Then, hands clean and bladder empty, she tiptoed through the living space to gather up her clothes, shoes, and car keys. The gorgeous woman under the covers, meanwhile, turned over onto her right side and then stayed perfectly still. After five minutes in the dark, when Cosima trusted Delphine to be asleep, she lay a note on her pillow, tiptoed up the stairs, and slid into the comic shop above. 

Upstairs, she changed into the layers sufficient for Toronto winters but saved the shoes until she was at the door, to keep from making sounds. She unset and reset the alarm and let herself out into the damp early morning. 

“Fuck, I miss Latin America,” she told the inside of their rental car as she waited for the heat to come on. The one upside to the cold, though, was that it woke her up. She would crash in a few hours, but for now she was practically bushy-tailed as she drove into the city. 

Her first stop was the French bakery across town, where she arrived just as they opened their doors for the day. She ordered a mix of macarons, some chocolates (rather, _chocolats_ ), a few eclairs, and a cake-type arrangement that looked complicated and delicious. 

“And a large coffee for me,” she told Monique at the register, handing over her personal credit card before she could even look at the total. She checked her phone as Monique poured the coffee. No messages. Good.

Her next stop was T's Florist, which was recommended by Felix. Justine, the woman behind the counter there, put together a lovely rose bouquet while Cosima drank her coffee and tried to remember why she'd decided to do all this so goddamn early in the goddamn morning. The bushy-tailedness of an hour ago was already giving way to bone-deep sleepiness.

“What's the occasion?” Justine asked.

“Hm?”

“What are the roses for?”

Cosima blinked at her for a moment. Justine could have been anywhere from eighteen to thirty five, and she was way too perky for Cosima at the moment. “My fiancée's birthday,” she said.

“Oh, how sweet. Most girls don't give guys flowers. And a Christmas baby, too!”

 _Guys?!?_ At that, Cosima was tempted to take her business elsewhere, but all she wanted now was to get back home, and the flowers were quite nice. She put her card on the counter and watched Justine ring her up. “I didn't say they were for a guy. I said they're for my fiancée. With two Es. She's thirty-three today.” 

Justine flushed and apologized, and Cosima raised her eyebrows at her, then took her card and the flowers and stalked out of the store. 

Back in the car, she finished her coffee and wished it would kick in already. It was now 6:35, still an hour before sunrise and hopefully an hour before Delphine woke up. Most stores were still closed even if they had extended holiday season hours. Cosima checked her list on her phone. Pastries and flowers were accomplished, but not coffee for Delphine. Any coffee shop she went to was too far from the Rabbit Hole to ensure the coffee stayed hot, and reheated coffee was only acceptable when paired with day-old pizza or shellacked protein bars at 2 am during finals week. For Delphine's birthday, only fresh, hot, high quality coffee would do, which meant making it in the lab's kitchenette, which had no coffee maker.

She'd learned early in her time in Toronto that many homeware stores were closed on Mondays for reasons she never understood, so she headed for the nearest decent coffee house. They always had French presses and bagged coffee for sale. 

When she got to Good Earth Coffeehouse, though, she stopped and stared at the darkened doorway. “What the actual fuck?” she asked the door. The hours posted said it opened at 6:30 Monday through Saturday, and it was currently 6:45. 

“Oh, they're renovating,” a man said. Cosima swiveled and found him hunched under a pile of blankets in the next doorway over. 

“And they couldn't put up a sign?”

He shrugged, only a small circle of his face showing. Cosima realized the privilege of being upset that a coffee shop was temporarily closed in a city of a hundred coffee shops. She pulled out the only cash she had, two dollars and five cents, and gave it to him.

“You take care, sweet heart,” he said. “Thanks.”

The nearest coffee shop was Rooster, which she hadn't been to since her first days in Toronto when she didn't know her way around and got lost on the way to Dyad. They opened at 7:00, so she sat in her car a few parking spaces away for seven minutes waiting for the door to open. While she sat, her brain drifted back to those days, when she'd just started to show symptoms, when she didn't trust Delphine but slept with her anyway.

 _Best decision of my fucking life,_ she thought, even as she remembered not believing that at the time. At the time she'd thought it was a terrible decision to sleep with Delphine, but Delphine was beautiful and her words could be intoxicating, and so Past Cosima pushed off the consequences to her future self, who was now awake before sunrise, four days before Christmas, getting Delphine breakfast. And they were going to be married. Cosima smirked to herself. 

_Pretty good consequences, if you ask me._

Thirty minutes later, when she parked the rental car around the corner from the Rabbit Hole, the sky showed hints of pink and the birds were chirping away. She gathered up the coffee supplies and baked goods, careful to keep the food upright, and tucked the flowers into the crook of her arm. She double checked that she had the car keys before locking the car, and stepped over the ice patches to the Rabbit Hole, where she had to carefully balance boxes on the iron window bars to get out her keys and unlock the door. 

It was almost 7:30 when she got into the shop, so she didn't bother trying to be quiet this time. She carried everything down the steps, creaking in predictable places, and smiled when she saw the bed was empty. The note she'd left on her pillow was moved and the covers pulled back, and the bathroom door was closed. She had at least a minute, then, to get her shit together.

The pastries she kept in their boxes, but with the lids removed, placed at the foot of the bed. She got a pot of water cooking on the hot plate in the lab and ground some beans, getting so absorbed in the little bean grinder that she jumped a little when Delphine touched her waist.

“Is this for both of us?” 

Cosima tapped the fresh grounds into the French press before turning and kissing her lips. “Only a little bit. Mostly it's for you.”

“For me?”

Delphine would never not be cute first thing in the morning, Cosima decided. Her hair was a mess, her shirt was crooked, and her normally brilliant, decisive eyes were bleary and soft with sleep. She wrapped her arms around Delphine's neck and kissed her again. “Yes. For you.”

“Mmm...” Delphine took a deep breath of the coffee aroma now filling the room. “It smells wonderful. And you got pastries and chocolates, too.” 

“I did. From that French place you told me about, like, two years ago.”

“You remembered it.”

“Mmhmm.” 

Delphine rested her cheek against Cosima's head and took in the sight in front of her – open bag of coffee beans, brand new grinder with coffee dust already collecting on it, hot plate with kettle, and French press full of hot brewing coffee. 

“You know that's not actually French, though, right?”

Cosima smiled and put a little check mark on her mental bingo card of “Things Delphine Does,” which included speaking to babies and animals in French, effortlessly finding nice clothes that fit well in unfamiliar stores, and correcting people's misconceptions about all things French. 

“Yes, I do know that.” She kissed Delphine again. “But I think it's gonna taste amazing anyways.”

Delphine yawned wide enough for Cosima to see the ridges on her palate, and stretched both arms over her head, allowing Cosima to slip away. Reaching back behind the computer monitor on the other table, she took the bouquet of roses and held them out to Delphine. 

“Happy birthday, Delphine.”


	12. Christmas, Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one got long on me, so it's coming in sections.
> 
> I always love me some feedback, even if it's telling me something that didn't work for you, or something I could do better.

“I can't believe you signed us both up for this.”

Delphine checked her hair one last time and watched Cosima straighten her tights in the mirror. “Alison's done a lot for us while we've been gone,” she reminded her. “The least we can do is go to one Christmas Eve service with her, if it's going to make her happy.”

“Have you ever _been_ to a Christmas Eve service?”

Delphine turned and put her hands on her hips. “My mother sent me to Catholic boarding school. What do you think?”

“Oh shit, you went to _Catholic_ boarding school? You never told me that.” Cosima stood and smoothed down her skirt. “That explains a lot.”

“Does it?”

“Well, like, yes and no.” Cosima sorted through her winter blouses in the closet until she found one she liked, and pulled it over her head, talking as she went. “Yes, because you can be, like, kind of cold sometimes – and not in a bad way! That is not an insult, I promise.”

Part of Delphine burned at the insinuation there, even as she knew that she had been cold, very cold, in the past. She thought they were past that, though, that Cosima understood and forgave, and that the past months showed that Delphine could be just as warm as Cosima was. Then Cosima came over, her blouse still catching on her bra, and she put both hands on the sides of Delphine's face.

“I did not mean that in a bad way. I promise.”

Delphine took a deep breath. The Hendrixes were picking them up in less than ten minutes. With Cosima's hands still on her face, Delphine pulled Cosima's blouse down and adjusted it for her. “Okay. You said yes and no, though.”

“Correct. Also yes because you have really awesome posture, and that's totally a Catholic boarding school kind of thing.”

She smiled at that. “Alright. What else?”

“Well, actually, it also explains your totally progressive and open views of sex, contrary to surface expectations.” 

It certainly was contrary, since all Delphine's teachers had taught them about sex was that they shouldn't have it until marriage, and that boys would want to have a lot of it. “Explain.”

Cosima was gearing up now as she took her blazer from the closet and buttoned it up. “Okay, so, my first girlfriend in college grew up super Catholic, right?” Cosima bent to put on her boots, grunting as she did. “Once she realized that sex wasn't bad, and I do mean the day she figured that out, she was like a sex maniac. She couldn't get enough of it. It was like, every time we fucked, it was her giving the Catholic church a big middle finger. And she wanted to try all this kinky shit precisely because she'd been told her whole life that it was a sin.”

Still listening, Delphine smoothed down her dress one last time and put on her own shoes. The theory made sense, in an anecdotal way, but she wasn't a fan of it. “So I have sex with you as an act of rebellion? Is that what you're telling me?”

“Well, hopefully you have sex with me because you love me and I turn you on, but rebellion probably played a role in the beginning.”

“In the beginning.”

Cosima checked the time; the Hendrix minivan would be there in any minute. She gave Delphine a shit-eating grin. “Well, you know. Except we both know you only slept with me the first time because Leekie told you to.”

“Oh, you are. A. _Brat_.”

Cosima darted away just out of Delphine's reach, her cackle coinciding with the buzz of her phone, telling them that Alison was outside. 

“You are going to pay for that.”

Cosima was still grinning as she put on her coat. “Do you promise?”

 _So that's what she's after..._

Delphine held off answering for a minute, putting on her own coat and gloves and starting up the stairs. She was silent long enough to make Cosima squirm, long enough for her cheeky little grin to falter and the beginnings of an apology to form in her eyes. Then, at the outside door of the comic shop, Delphine paused with her hand on the knob. 

“Only if you're very good,” she said. “Then I'll let you pay for it.”

* *

The church was tucked into a residential community in Toronto proper, surrounded by apartment complexes and corner stores. It was clearly a church, and yet it wasn't. The doorway recalled the steep entrances of Église Saint Maclou in Lille, where her mother had taken her twice a year or so growing up, but the facade and shape of the building could have fit a school or a nice communal home just as well. Delphine followed Alison and Donnie into the church, Cosima's hand in hers. The kids led the way, already comfortable enough here after two prior visits to jaunt ahead and claim a place to sit. Just inside the door, an elderly woman in a Christmas vest gave them all programs. Without thinking, Delphine reached her fingers out for some holy water, and staggered slightly when there wasn't any.

“You okay?” Cosima asked.

“Yes.” She smiled back at her. “I almost forgot I'm not Catholic anymore.”

They sat a few rows from the front, still holding hands, together with Donnie and Alison flanking the children in the middle. While Cosima flipped through the program and muttered about not being able to sing, Delphine looked around the room. People, mostly families with children, filled in, hugging and smiling at each other, dressing and behaving more informally than she'd ever seen at Église Saint Maclou. One teenage girl came wearing her pajamas and plastic antlers, even as the rest of her family was a bit more respectable, and no one batted an eye.

Also, while most congregants at Église Saint Maclou looked like Delphine and her mother, the people who filled the seats here looked much like the population of Greater Toronto. Three women in front of them chatted in Argentinian Spanish, if Delphine's ear was correct, and a Middle Eastern man in the aisle helped a teenaged boy practice Arabic greetings. A woman in a wheelchair was situated nearby, her hands flapping back and forth as she smiled and moaned, and the other congregants told her they were happy to see her.

And some of them were gay. Delphine was obviously no stranger to gay people, even before she'd come out to herself, but she had never, ever, seen gay couples in a church before. There was a pair of elderly men, bald, hunched, and covered in liver spots, who held hands on their way in. There was a pair of women and their two small children. In the row behind them, a woman whom Delphine suspected was transgender sat and tapped Alison Hendrix on the shoulder, and then the two of them fell into an animated conversation about fabric until Alison pointed down the row and said, “And that's my sister Cosima and her fiancée.”

“Huh?” Cosima looked up at the sound of her name. She was more nervous that Delphine had seen her in some time.

The woman behind them extended a hand. “Hi, I'm Corinne. I can certainly see the family resemblance here!” 

_You have no idea_ , thought Delphine.

Compared to church services of Delphine's youth, the Christmas Eve service Alison took them to was a zoo, but not in a negative way. The children of the congregation led most of it, from Bible readings to acting out scenes from the Christmas story that included an actual infant from the congregation who cried during his big moment in the spotlight. At one point, a toddler in a cow costume broke away from the group and wandered down the aisle until he stopped and stared at Cosima, three slobbery fingers in his mouth. 

“Okay, that was fucking adorable,” Cosima whispered once the boy's father came to carry him away. 

Afterwards, there was hot chocolate, hot apple cider, and cookies for everyone, and then they piled back into the minivan to head to everyone's current homes, where the kids would be allowed to open one present each before bed. 

“Are you having supper with us?” Charlotte asked Cosima and Delphine. “Helena's making a traditional Ukrainian Christmas dinner.”

“Mom's helping,” Kira added.

Delphine looked over at Cosima, whose face mirrored her own. 

“Uh, I don't think we will, no,” Cosima said. “We're pretty tired, so I think we'll just go to bed.”

“And we have presents to wrap,” Delphine said.

“And that.”

The Hendrixes would be staying at Sarah's house that night, it turned out. They'd brought some air mattresses and bed linens as well as Christmas stories to read to the children. All in all, it sounded a little too cozy for Delphine at the moment. 

“We'll see you first thing tomorrow morning, okay?” she told them.

* *

Back at the Rabbit Hole, both Delphine and Cosima were happy to remove dress shoes and tights, and pull on pajamas. Delphine sat up in bed and checked the handful of “Joyeux Noël!” messages she'd gotten on her phone. Cosima curled up beside her on the bed and pulled the covers over their knees. 

“What did you think?” Cosima asked.

“It wasn't what I expected.”

“Yeah, me neither. Not sure what I did expect, though.” She played with a loose thread on Delphine's flannel pants. “Alison wants us to go back, though, and I don't really think I want to.”

“You don't have to. We only went tonight as a favor, and we'll only be in Toronto until the end of January.”

“Yeah. D'you think...” Cosima leaned back and chewed on her lip. 

“What?”

“D'you think she was just showing off this cool new gay-friendly church she has? Like, 'hey, lemme take my queer sister to this church with all these other gay people. Won't she think I'm cool?' And, 'Oh, let me show her off to my new church, so everyone will know how cool I am, that I have a gay sister.'”

Delphine thought about it. Until tonight, actually, Delphine had never wondered what Alison thought about Cosima's sexuality. There was acceptance, and that was all that mattered, especially with everything else they had to contend with. “I have no idea, chérie. Is that what you think?”

“I don't know. I mean, on the upside, the kids get to hang out with a bunch of people with a bunch of different backgrounds, which, from what Felix told me, is not the case in Bailey Downs, so that's good.”

“Hm. Maybe.” 

Delphine sank deeper under the covers and closed her eyes for a few moments. The day full of Christmas planning, meals, and now church finally caught up with her. She remembered Cosima's remarks before they left, though, and her promise to get Cosima back for them. That getting back part would have to wait until she had more energy, but she still had a question.

“You said that Catholic boarding school both did, and did not, explain a lot,” she said. 

“Oh, shit.” Cosima giggled and settled into the blankets with her so they lay side by side. “Yes, I did.”

“What does it not explain?”

“Well, the first thing that came to mind when I said that was your mom, actually. You said your mom took you to church, right?”

“Along with my grandparents, yes.”

“But you also told me, a little while back, that your mom was on birth control, yeah?”

“Also yes.”

“I thought birth control was a big no no for Catholics.”

Delphine snorted, and almost wanted Cosima to meet her mother just then. No one else called out bullshit quite like Cosima could. “My mother is what I like to call an _à la carte_ Catholic. She takes the parts she likes – the routines, the social connections, the schooling for me – and leaves the parts she doesn't like. It's very convenient for her. I'd be shocked if she even believed in God, to be honest with you.”

“Well, I know that you don't.”

“Not most of the time.”

Cosima propped herself up on one elbow. “Most of the time? Does that mean that you _do_ believe in God _some_ of the time?”

She closed her eyes again and rubbed her forehead. “If that's what you want to call it, yes. Maybe. I believe in something, a little bit. Or maybe it's better to say, I do not _disbelieve_ in something all the time.”

“That sounds convoluted, but okay. What's changed, then? You used to be pretty emphatically against spirituality in general.”

Delphine rubbed her face some more, not really wanting to get into it at the moment. What she wanted was to lay in bed with Cosima and let the saccharine evening of wholesome family happiness and children dressed as livestock dissipate a little before tomorrow, when they would dive head-on into a full day of Clone Club Family Christmas.

“What happened?” Delphine repeated. “I got shot in the abdomen and I was almost shot in the head, but instead of dying, I'm laying here talking to you. Or should I say I'm lying here? I can never remember.”

Cosima wrapped her arm around Delphine's midsection and nuzzled her shoulder. “Laying, lying, who gives a shit? You're here. That's all I care about.” She kissed Delphine's collarbone and the soft skin just above it a few times. “I will never not be thankful for that. And you can believe in whatever you want. I'm just a little surprised, that's all.”

Delphine kissed her forehead, then her lips when Cosima tilted her head up. “We can talk more about it later if you'd like. I'm not really up for it now, though.”

“Not a problem. Sleep well, my love.”

She kissed her again, a little longer this time. “You too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't actually know anything about Église Saint Maclou, which is a real church in Lille. I also know a number of queer-positive, sex-positive practicing Catholics, but I also know a lot of Catholics who aren't, and those are the ones the characters are talking about.


	13. Christmas, Part 2

Christmas morning started with identical text messages from Kira Manning on both of their cell phones. 

_Hurry up and get here. Mom says we're not allowed to open any presents until EVERYONE is here._

Beside her, Cosima swore at her phone. “Jesus fucking Christ, Kira, it's 6:30 in the morning. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

 _Good thing Kira texted instead of calling_ , Delphine thought. “She's 9 years old,” she reminded Cosima. “I'm sure you were the same at her age.”

Cosima grunted, but got up and shuffled to the bathroom anyway. Delphine texted Kira back, _We'll be on our way in ~30 min. ETA 1 hr_.

With some prodding from Delphine, they both got themselves fully dressed and into their rental car a few minutes before 7:00, but just as Delphine turned the ignition, Cosima jumped in her seat and shouted, “Oh fuck, the presents!” so they went back around the corner to the Rabbit Hole, gathered up the bags of presents, and schlepped them all back outside in the dark. Delphine hadn't checked the weather for the day, but it was well below freezing. At least there was no precipitation. The children would get a gray Christmas instead of a white one this year.

“What did you used to do for Christmas?” Cosima asked once they were on their way. 

“At what point?”

“You know, when you were little. When you were 9, let's say. Kira's age.”

“Well, I always spent Christmas with my mother's family. Until I got to university, and then I stopped going for Christmas.”

Cosima watched her from under her lumpy purple hat – the same one she'd worn when she limped into Revival with Charlotte a year ago, if Delphine wasn't mistaken. As often as Delphine tried telling her to take off a few layers when she was inside for a short time, because it would help her feel less cold when she stepped back outside, Cosima stayed bundled. But then again, this was a woman who could wear a scarf inside for hours without feeling uncomfortable. “What else?” Cosima asked.

“Well, my mother was an only child, like me, so Christmas was always a small affair for us. It was me, my mother, and my grandparents, and then when I was 12 my grandfather died, and it was only three of us.”

“That must've been rough.”

Delphine realized that she'd never talked about her grandfather's death before, not to Cosima, not to previous boyfriends, not even to the few friends she'd had at the time. It was never important enough. “Not really,” she said. “He never spent much time with us anyways. He bought and sold airplanes, and even on Christmas Day he would slip into his office to cut deals with people.”

“Jeez. Workaholic, much?”

“Yes, he was. He loved my father, actually. They were both businessmen, so they could talk about that. Grandpère would always tell my mother that she should take Papa back.”

“That sounds awkward.”

“It was.”

She pulled into the parking lot of the Niehaus's hotel and remember how her grandmère would yell at her grandpère to go back to his office if he wasn't going to listen to what the women had to say, and then Grandpère would do so, until the year before he died when he didn't even bother coming downstairs for Christmas breakfast at all. Twelve-year-old Delphine had sat at the table with her foremothers blabbing on about how _tall_ Delphine was getting, while Grandpère laughed or yelled or whooped into the phone upstairs.

Cosima's parents came down from their hotel room fifteen minutes later, much tardier than Delphine would have liked, but earlier than Cosima, and prior experience with Sally Niehaus, would have had her expect. Sally and Gene had their stacks of gifts that they'd purchased since meeting Clone Club, and there were a few minutes spent getting everything and everyone to fit into the rented Toyota Yaris. And then they were off again.

They got to Sarah's place at 7:35, and all the lights in the house were on, glowing in the semi-darkness along with the Christmas tree in the window and the neighbor's flashing Santa-and-reindeer display. Gemma Hendrix had the front door open before all four of them were entirely out of the car. 

“Merry Christmas!” she shouted. “Hurry up!”

“Goddamn, kids, calm down,” Cosima muttered, but her parents chuckled.

“Hell, kiddo,” Gene said, “we practically had to chain you to the table to keep you off the presents some years.”

Sally nodded as she gathered up a stack of gifts from the trunk of the car. “Don't you remember the year you woke us up at 5 am by jumping on top of us and screaming Merry Christmas at the top of your lungs?”

“Vaguely.”

The image of a small, hyperactive Cosima always made Delphine giggle. “Please tell me I'll get to see pictures one day.”

“Oh, yes,” Sally assured her. “When Cosima brings you out to California, we'll get out all of our old photo albums to show you. She was a hoot when she was little.”

Inside the house, the energy level was high enough to speed Delphine's heart up a few bpms. Both of the twins were crying in the Pack 'n Play in the living room, and the older children, supervised by Sarah, circled the Christmas tree like raptors, all of their heads swiveling towards the front door in unison when Delphine and Cosima stepped in. _They hunt in packs_ , Delphine thought, unable to shake the _Jurassic Park_ imagery. The voices of Alison, Helena, and Donnie drifted in from the kitchen over the babies' crying and the soft Christmas music the played on the stereo. 

Sarah came over to take boxes and bags from them as they hung their coats. “I apologize for my daughter,” she said. “I told her you were all allowed to sleep in as late as you wanted to, but apparently she didn't believe me.”

They all assured Sarah that it was fine, that they didn't mind at all. 

“Felix'll be here in a few minutes,” Sarah went on, looking at her phone after adding the presents to the massive piles spilling out from under and around the tree. “Scott's picking him up. Art says he'll be here, but later, maybe around lunch time, and we're to go ahead without him.”

“Thank GOD,” Kira said. “I am NOT waiting until lunch!”

Colin, they'd already learned, would be spending Christmas with his parents in western Ontario, so they wouldn't be seeing him.

“Is Art bringing Maya?” Charlotte asked. 

“Uh, no,” Sarah said. “I don't think so. He said Maya's spending Christmas with her mom and I guess her mom's new boyfriend.”

 _That explains why Art's spending the day with us, then,_ Delphine thought.

Felix and Scott did arrive in a few minutes, bearing even more wrapped and bagged packages. Much to the children's dismay, though, it was still not yet time to open presents. Alison offered to make everyone who'd just arrived coffee, which they accepted, and Gene needed to use the bathroom, and then Helena needed to change the babies' diapers downstairs, and then Donnie sliced his finger open cutting an apple and Sarah couldn't remember where the bandages were, so they had to search the house for several minutes. Finally, at 8:15, almost thirty minutes after sunrise, Alison got everyone into position in the living room, took a few pictures, and gave everyone the go-ahead to start opening presents. 

The resulting assault reminded Delphine of nothing more than the moment when a zookeeper drops the rack of lamb he's been dangling over the hyena pit. The children had spent all morning memorizing the location of their largest presents, and they moved in a coordinated surge towards them, tearing at the corners of the wrapping paper with trembling fingers as the adults all sat back and watched.

“This is normal for Christmas?” Helena asked Alison. 

“You mean the excitement?” Alison asked.

Sarah smiled over at them. “The word I was going to use was _aggression_ , but excitement'll do, too. And yeah, Meathead, it's pretty normal.”

For several minutes they all sat and watched the children discover what gifts the adults in their lives had given them. Even if the item came directly from their Amazon-linked wish lists, their joy radiated through the room. Gemma shrieked when she opened the puppet-making kit her parents gave her. Oscar was beside himself by the set of acrylic paints (from Cosima and Delphine) and the multi-brush pack (from Felix), and immediately scooted over to Felix to show him, ignoring the rest of his gifts for the moment. When Kira opened the robotics kit Cosima got her, she held it over her head with a grin. 

Charlotte's largest present sat on the floor near the corner of the room. It came from Sarah, and her reaction to it was complete silence after opening it. 

“Hey, kiddo,” Cosima said, tapping her back. “What'd you get?”

When Charlotte turned, her eyes were wet and she was grinning. “Look.”

They looked, and Delphine was impressed. It was a 20-gallon glass tank tucked into colorful cardboard that read “Premium Reptile Habitat – Bearded Dragon Starter Kit.” Inside the tank was everything Charlotte would need for a bearded dragon, minus the actual bearded dragon.

“Hey, Charlotte,” Sarah said, “I was thinking maybe we could go up to the pet store day after tomorrow and check out what they have. I know you mentioned dragons before, but if you want a different animal, we can give this back and get something different.”

Charlotte didn't answer. She just pulled herself up, limped over to Sarah, and gave her a big hug. 

“Now you need to take good care of it, you hear me?” Sarah told her. “Don't go letting it roam around the house, don't let it out of the tank unless you've got a good eye on it, yeah? If you do, you might not have it for very long.”

Charlotte nodded emphatically. “Yes, I know. And I'll feed it and water it every day. You won't need to remind me.”

Once all the kids had opened at least one gift, Alison instructed them in passing out gifts to everyone else in the room. The chaos that followed was more subdued, as the children tried reading the names on each tag.

“Auntie Cosima,” Gemma said after she'd handed out a few Cosima-wrapped gifts, “you have terrible handwriting!”

“Yeah, that's a scientist thing,” Cosima said, drawing immediate censure from her parents, fiancée, and Scott. 

Delphine had come prepared to open a few gifts from Cosima, maybe one from Scott, and then watch everyone else open presents. That misconception was shot, though, as the children handed her present after present from Felix, Sarah, the Hendrixes, and the Niehauses, as well as from Cosima and Scott.

“Oh, and this came to the Rabbit Hole just before you guys got back,” Scott said, helping the kids with distribution. The envelope he handed her was flamingo pink and addressed to “Blonde French Doctor.”

“Aww, Krystal!” Cosima said, her own hands and lap full of gifts. “How sweet of her!”

Opening it, Delphine's eyes widened. There were gift certificates for massages, facials, manicures, pedicures, and body waxes at the salon and spa where Krystal worked. For each service, Delphine had five certificates, each good for the following twelve months, and sharable. “Yes, that's very sweet of her,” Delphine managed, her voice thick despite her best efforts at keeping cool.

Most of the other gifts she unwrapped were equally moving, if only due to their unexpectedness. From Felix she got a pair of black Italian leather gloves, similar to the pair she'd worn in Geneva and lost in Latin America. From Sarah she got a travel bag for larger toiletries, with compartments for medicines and brushes. 

“It's not that personal, I know,” Sarah said. “But Cosima said you needed one, and she was no help at all with gift ideas for you.”

Alison and Donnie Hendrix gave her a new luggage set with four pieces, each wrapped in a thick red ribbon with a bow on top. “And I know you won't use all of them right now,” Alison said, “but save the others for when you finally move out of that comic book shop and into your own place.”

Cosima's parents, probably shooting in the dark with most of their presents, gave Delphine a pair of fuzzy gray slippers and a tin of Christmas cookies. Another gift from them, for both her and Cosima, was _The World Atlas of Street Food_. 

“Cosima said you're going to be traveling a lot next year, too,” Gene said. “So I thought that might interest you a little bit.”

Delphine thought that if they tried it all out they would need to triple their supply of Imodium, but she didn't say so. 

She set Cosima's gifts aside to open last, and opened Scott's – a blocky, lumpy package wrapped in layers of snow man, striped, and shimmery silver wrapping papers. At the top when she finally broke through the paper, she found a multi-pack of fuzzy socks, showing that he and Sally Niehaus were on the same page. Beneath the socks, though, she found a water purifying pen that claimed to kill 99% of viruses, bacteria, and protozoa in water, including giardia and cryptosporidia.

 _This could have saved me a lot of problems in Costa Rica,_ she thought. “Thank you, Scott,” she said.

Beside her on the floor, Cosima had opened most of her own gifts, and giggled when she saw Delphine's present from Scott. “That was all him,” she said, “I did not tell him to give you that.”

Delphine paused in her unwrapping when Cosima picked up the little box wrapped in green paper. Cosima had already opened, and loved, Delphine's other gifts – the ugly Christmas sweater with dinosaurs on it, the LightSaber chopsticks, and the quadcopter with mountable camera. She'd loved the last one so much that her mother had to scold her to put her phone away and look up local drone restriction zones _after_ the family finished opening gifts. 

“You're chewing your lip,” Cosima pointed out. “Maybe it's good I saved this one for last?”

“That one's not last.”

“No?” Cosima searched around in the piles of wrapping paper, presents, and gift bags.

“The last one's back at the Rabbit Hole.”

“Oh, really?” 

Delphine leaned over to whisper in her ear. “I'll give it to you tomorrow, when no one else is around.”

Cosima's grin threatened to split her face open. “Nnnnnngg, that sounds exciting. Now let's see what this one is.” She took off the wrapping paper carefully, then opened the little box and drew a sharp breath. “Holy shit, where did you get this?”

“In Mexico.”

Cosima pulled the necklace from it's box and let the chain slip through her fingers a little when she held it up. Her sleeves were pulled up already, so the filigree nautilus shell dangled beside the tattooed one. “It's perfect,” she said. “Thank you.” 

* 

Art arrived just before noon, lugging his own half refrigerator box full of presents. “I have never needed to shop for so many people before,” he said when he set the box down in the living room amongst the carnage of earlier presents. “At the station, we just do the white elephant thing, so normally I just buy, like, ten gifts, total, including ones for my daughter. Not this year.”

The children were busy investigating their opened presents, but dropped everything to surround Art and his massive box. Like a plain-clothes, clean-shaven Santa Claus, he hugged or patted all of them on the head and handed them presents to distribute to the family.

“Did you get us anything?” Oscar asked when Art handed him a gift bag for Scott. 

“I dunno,” Art said. “You'll just have to wait and see.”

The children, of course, did all get gifts, but none as exciting as the earlier ones. Art, apparently, had not received the wish lists until everything was already purchased, so he'd improvised. Kira got some Minecraft Legos, Gemma got a book of brain teasers, Oscar got a magic kit, and Charlotte got a Rubik's Cube. They all said Thank You, but only Kira seemed genuinely excited about her gift, and the others all wanted to share it with her.

Meanwhile, Helena helped Alison fix lunch in the kitchen. Following Alison's family's Christmas tradition, the biggest meal of the day would be in the early afternoon. Other than Helena, only Sarah, Sally, and Felix were allowed to help, and not all of them at the same time. Delphine was happy enough sitting on the living room floor, half-reading the first chapter of _The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat_ (a gift from Cosima) and watching her fiancée playing with her nieces and nephew while the house filled with the smell of Brussels sprouts, baked ham, and apple pie. 

“How you doin', Delphine? Thanks for the booze.”

She looked up as Art lowered himself to the floor beside her. “You're welcome, but that was all Cosima's idea,” she said. “And thank you very much again for the knife.”

Art inclined his head. “You're very welcome. I hope you don't have to use it.”

He'd given both her and Cosima blue-handled Italian stiletto switchblades. She hadn't yet tried hers out for fear the knife might fly out of her hand and hurt someone. “I'm not sure how many places we'll be allowed to carry them, though,” she said.

“Well, obviously not in your carry-ons,” he smiled.

“Obviously.”

“But really, I'd rather you had some kind of personal protection when you're out there curing everybody.”

It was sweet. At Dyad she'd always had her pistol, often concealed on her person once she became the director, and at Revival she'd been encouraged to carry one whenever there was a threat to the village, but since then she'd never been armed with anything more powerful than a set of car keys. It did leave her feeling more vulnerable than she wanted, even if Cosima felt the opposite. 

“We'll take good care of them,” she told Art. 

Helena appeared then with the twins, and he pulled himself off the floor for them. “There's my boys!” he exclaimed. “Come 'ere!”

*

“Mom, you haven't opened your present from Auntie Cosima!” 

Sarah had been banished from the kitchen by Alison, and sat on the floor leafing through Cosima and Delphine's _The World Atlas of Street Food_. “What?” she said. “I forgot one?”

“Yeah.” Kira carried over the rectangular box, quite similar to the one Art had gotten. “It's kinda heavy.”

Sarah must have recognized the shape as well, because she grinned over at Cosima and Delphine before opening it. “A'right, let's see.” She tore off the red paper and grinned more when the box came into view. “Niiiiice, thanks, Cos. Oh, wait, there's a card....” 

Cosima took a break from the Minecraft Legos to watch her sister read the hand-written card, a tiny smile tugging on the corners of her mouth.

“'At the least the worm's not'.... Cosima you little twat!” Sarah laughed, kicking a loose bow in Cosima's general direction.

“I mean, I'm not wrong, am I, Sarah?”

“No, no, you're not. God, I thought I'd repressed that memory. Thanks. And thanks. This looks great. We'll have to split it sometime.”

The bottle and its note were passed around to established men of Clone Club, who chuckled, guffawed, and / or groaned at it. 

“At least it's not in your face, either, Cosima,” Scott said. “I haven't forgotten that.”

For a moment, Delphine was confused. Hadn't Cosima told her that only Sarah had the worm in her face? The confusion was superseded, though, by Alison ringing a little ceramic bell to call everyone into the dining room to eat.

The table was crowded, and no food was even on it yet. Rather, it all sat on the counters or stove top, and children were assigned jobs of serving up the food to the adults first. Once everyone's plate was full and everyone was seated, Alison told them all to hold hands and bow their heads. Delphine held hands with Cosima and Arthur, and she didn't bow her head or close her eyes. Neither did half the table, she noticed, though everyone was silent while Alison said grace. At the children's table, Helena followed suit, having the children hold hands but keeping her head up and eyes open. 

“Dear Lord,” Alison said, “thank You for bringing us all together on this beautiful Christmas Day. Thank for you bringing new souls into our little family, Lord. Thank you for keeping us safe all year and providing us with such wonderful food to nourish our bodies. Thank you for making us secure enough that we can give each other presents that bring joy to our lives.”

“Yes,” Arthur whispered. “Thank you.”

“And please continue watching over us, Lord,” Alison went on. “Watch over us in our jobs, at our schools, and at home. Watch over Cosima and Delphine on their travels in the coming year. Watch over Sarah in her educational journey, and Scott in his new job. Watch over our children, Lord, as they grow and learn and... make mistakes.”

“Yes,” Arthur whispered, “amen,” his intonation showing agreement rather than closure.

Alison went on, “And let us always keep in our minds and in our hearts those who cannot be with us today, Lord. We think of Colin and Maya, of my mother and Donnie's parents, and Kira's father Cal. Even Rachel Duncan, who helped us so much this year, at great risk to herself. We think of all of our sisters, and our brother Tony, who are spending this day, hopefully, with their own families and with people who love them.”

“Amen,” whispered Arthur.

“And also,” Alison said, her voice thickening, “let us remember those who have left us. Let us remember Beth, who brought us all together. Let us remember MK, who protected us and saved us in ways we might not even understand. And let us remember....” Her voice broke then, and Donnie squeezed her hand. 

“Siobhan,” Sarah said. Her eyes were open, fixed on the table in front of her but not seeing it. By now, most of them had tears in their eyes, and Felix released Scott's hand for a moment to wipe away tears that rolled down his face.

“Kendall,” Cosima said. 

“Gracie,” Helena said.

“Aisha,” Charlotte whispered. “And Ira.”

“Mika,” Kira repeated.

They sat in silence for a long moment before Alison squeezed Donnie and Arthur's hands again. “And bless this food we're about to enjoy. Amen!”

“Amen!” they all shouted, even if they weren't religious. 

*

An hour and a half later, Cosima leaned back in her chair and put both hands on her stomach. “Alison, you're making me fat. I'm not supposed to get fat until _after_ Delphine marries me.”

For the fifth time that day, Sally swatted Cosima's arm. “Cosima Niehaus, you have never been fat in your life and you know it. Carry a baby for nine months, and then we'll talk about fat!”

“Right,” Cosima said, “`cause Sarah's such a heifer.”

“Hey hey hey,” Sarah cut in. “We are not going into my body shape or the reasons for or against it. Okay?”

Even though everyone else had slowed or stopped eating, Helena helped herself to another piece of Alison's peppermint chocolate cake, carrying it into the living room with her. _It's a wonder_ she's _not fat,_ Delphine thought. But then, she was only around Helena during family gatherings when everyone ate a lot, so she wasn't getting the observational samples. Plus, she suspected Helena had not been fed well at all during her childhood. _Maybe she was too undernourished as a child to gain much weight as an adult..._

“Sestra, you were fat with Kira. I have seen it in pictures.”

“Oi, what did I _just_ say, Meathead?”

Arthur shook his head and joined Helena in the living room, where the Hendrix kids and Kira had returned to their toys. Charlotte, however, lingered in the kitchen, her plate and silverware in the pile by the sink. “Can I get pregnant, Cosima?”

The way Cosima almost spat out her drink would have been funny if Delphine weren't as shocked by the question as she was. 

“What?!” Cosima asked. “Where the... _heck_ did that come from?”

“Your mom said that if you got pregnant, you'd be fat, and then Helena said that Sarah was fat when she was pregnant with Kira...”

“Yeah, I followed that part of the conversation, thanks. That doesn't answer my question, bud. You're eleven and a half. Why are you asking if you can get pregnant?” 

Charlotte saw everyone's eyes on her, and she squirmed. “Well, I mean, we're not supposed to get pregnant, are we?”

Cosima spluttered that “Heck no, you're not supposed to get pregnant – you're eleven!” but Delphine patted her arm.

“I don't think that's what she means, chérie. I think she means because she's a Leda.”

The reactions of the other clones would have made a great compilation shot if someone had thought to photograph them just then. Cosima's eyes went wide and her mouth fell open. Sarah's eyebrows went up as she squeezed her eyes closed, and Alison's entire face tightened. Meanwhile, Cosima's parents remained out of the loop.

“I agree with Cosima, kiddo,” Gene said gently. “I think you're a little bit young to be thinking about that.” 

Charlotte ignored him.

Cosima leaned out past Delphine to take Charlotte's hand. “Charlotte, I don't know the answer to that for sure, but.... I think it's unlikely, to be honest with you. I think it's highly unlikely.”

“But we've been cured, right? And you said the disease starts in the uterus, and that's where the infertility comes from.”

“Right. But so far we haven't seen any evidence that the treatment reverses the infertility. That's....” Cosima glanced up at Alison, who'd slipped over to the sink to start on the piles of dirty dishes even though Donnie said he would do them. “That part's kind of built into our DNA,” Cosima said, “whether we like it or not.”

The silence surrounding the main table now was punctuated by the chatter of the other children in the living room. At the end of the table, Gene and Sally looked at each other, then Cosima, then Helena and the twins, then Sarah, and then back to Cosima and Charlotte. Delphine was equally impressed by how their minds followed the same logical paths even when they weren't communicating as she was by their ability to keep their mouths shut when they needed to.

Charlotte wasn't finished. “But I was prepub... prepub...” 

“Prepubescent?” Cosima supplied.

“Yes. I got the treatment before my period started, so that makes me different. That's what Rachel told me.”

 _She is_ so _much more comfortable talking about all of that than I was at her age,_ Delphine thought. _She has Cosima to thank for that, in part at least._

Cosima nodded. “That does make you different, but we don't know yet exactly _how_ different that makes you. Remember, this is totally uncharted scientific and medical territory. There's no prior research we can go to, no previous case studies to tell us what's probable or improbable. We're just making educated guesses here – poking things with sticks, kind of.”

“Can you test me to find out?”

Despite herself, Delphine smiled. Charlotte certainly was an ambitious little scientist in the making. Not so different from the clone she was cloned from – Rachel Duncan. 

Beside her, Cosima hesitated. “I don't know? I mean, a lot of fertility testing assumes that a woman is old enough to ovulate and menstruate and all of that.”

“Have you been tested?”

“No, there's never been a reason for me to get tested. I'm kind of just going on what I've heard and what I assume based on anatomy and physiology.”

Throughout the conversation, Donnie Hendrix had gotten increasingly agitated, glancing at Alison more and more until now he was staring at her back. Alison, meanwhile, was doing a passable job of pretending to ignore everyone until the moments of silence that followed Cosima's last sentence. At that, she let out a thespian's dramatic sigh and let a plate fall into the sink of soapy water, then turned around, her soapy, gloved hands held out to the side to protect her nice Christmas sweater and slacks.

“Okay, fine. Since you already know so much more than you should about our reproductive systems,” Alison told Charlotte, “I can tell you the rest. There are hormone tests, to check if... a woman... is ovulating normally or not. That part's easy – women can do it at home. There are other procedures done in a doctor's office that check the viability of a woman's womb and the number of eggs she has.”

Sally Niehaus nodded along. “Oh, yes, I remember those tests. They're probably easier now than they were 35 years ago, but they've never fun.” 

Alison didn't respond to her, but laced her gloved fingers together and looked at Charlotte. “Charlotte, sweetheart, you are _far_ too young to be worrying about all of this, and you are definitely too young to get these kinds of tests.”

Cosima nodded. “I mean, physically, I don't think we'll even be able to check for several more years. If you still want to find out, maybe when you're 16 or so we could run some tests, just so you know.”

“Sixteen!?” Alison exclaimed. “Try 25! Teenagers shouldn't be thinking about this.” She almost held her hand to her throat, but remembered the soapy gloves and didn't. 

“Pfff,” said Sarah. “Sixteen's maybe even a little late to be thinking about it, if you ask me. I would've loved to have been infertile when I was fifteen, hell. Would've made things a lot easier.”

“Oh, so I assume then that you're also okay with Kira getting a fertility test at 16, hmm?”

“I didn't say that, Alison.”

Delphine and Cosima exchanged a look. _She's probably already gotten one, or gotten prepped for one,_ Delphine thought. _Sarah just wasn't included that decision-making process, and the results have been destroyed._.

Kira, fortunately, was busy with Scott playing with the little robotics kit Cosima gave her in the living room, and missed the entire conversation. The other children were likewise oblivious, as Oscar shared his new paints set with Felix, and Gemma enlisted Art to help her set up a little stage for her puppets. Only Helena noticed that something was awry in the kitchen, and watched her sisters with wide, serious eyes.

“Listen,” Cosima told Charlotte, “if you want to explore this more, I will support you however I can. It's your body, yeah? You have a right to know about it.”

Charlotte nodded. “I know.”

“Good. It's just... well, like I said, there's things we might not be able to get solid answers for right away, and I want you to have reasonable expectations. Sound good?”

“Okay.”

Charlotte didn't look thrilled with that answer, but she accepted it, and went off to the living room as well, where she picked up the Terry Pratchett book Cosima gave her, her brand new cell phone from Felix still in its box four hours after opening it.

The rest of the family actively moved on past the tension of the past several minutes. Donnie went to help Alison in the kitchen, Delphine cleared the table, Sarah put the kettle on for tea, and Cosima put left overs in containers to go in the fridge. Her parents, as the newest members of Clone Club and the oldest guests, were not allowed to help.

When Cosima, Delphine, and Sarah all sat back down for tea and coffee, Helena joined them, having put the boys in the basement for their afternoon naps, where their older cousins couldn't bother them. Alison was still fussing over the dishes and telling Donnie what to do, and Dr. and Dr. Niehaus had become one with their dining room chairs.

“Cosima,” Sally began, “I've been wondering, since you had that little talk with Charlotte a little bit ago...” Her sentence petered out into a series of hand waves.

“Yes?” Cosima said. “What have you been wondering, Mom?”

“Well, you said something about infertility being built into your DNA.”

“Yes, I did.”

“But your sisters have children. I mean, Helena has twins and, and... she gave birth to them, and Sarah has Kira.”

Across from Cosima, Sarah gave a wide-eyed look and looked away again. For her part, Delphine just rubbed Cosima's knee with her own. _I think I can see where this conversation is going to go,_ she thought.

“That's correct,” Cosima said. “Uh, Sarah and Helena are the, um, the anomalies among us. They're the only two who've been able to conceive.”

Sally sat back with her fingers resting on her lower lip in a way that Cosima must have gotten from her. “Interesting,” she said after a moment. “How do you know that they're the only two, though? I mean, the more than two hundred of you, and you said yourself that you've never checked your own fertility, so...”

“Yeah, I don't need to.”

“Oh, honey, just because you're a lesbian, that doesn't mean-”

“That's not what I mean. I mean, I already know that I can't bear children, physically. I don't need to do those fertility tests that you had to do because I already know that I'm infertile.”

“How do you know that?”

Sarah took a sip of her tea and cocked her head at Cosima. “Your mum doesn't let things go much, does she, Cos?”

Cosima made some complicated movements with her mouth, trying to find the right words. Delphine watched her, wanting to help, but wanting to let Cosima do most of the talking here. It was Cosima's body, and Cosima's mother, after all. 

Two seats down from Sarah, Helena munched on a bowl of potato chips and said, “Kira, Little Donnie, Little Arthur, they are miracle babies, like I said. Swan Man did not want us to have them.”

The sentence clearly made no sense to Cosima's parents, who were too polite to say so.

“What Helena means,” Cosima said, “is that Dyad specifically designed us to be infertile. The infertility is a feature of the cloning process, not a bug. However, Sarah and Helena's birth mother got away from Dyad before that sequence was introduced, so they're both fertile, but none of the rest of us can bear children.”

“I see,” Sally said, though her face said the opposite. 

“Swan Man also made you sick,” Helena said to Cosima. “But you are smarter than him, yes?”

Cosima laughed. “I don't know about _that_. I don't think I could clone a human being even if I wanted to, and his little encryption coding was hard core, too. Dude was smart as hell.”

“Yes, but he wasn't alone,” Delphine reminded her. “His hidden encryption code in the book might've been his alone, but the cloning wasn't.”

“Well, yeah, I know that. For all I know, Susan Duncan did all the heavy lifting there, but my point is, he was still brilliant. Susan wouldn't have worked with him otherwise, and PT sure as hell wouldn't have.”

Sally place a hand on Cosima's shoulder. “I'm sorry, did she say that this man made you _sick_?”

 _Here we go,_ Delphine thought. Before Cosima's parents landed in Toronto, Cosima told her that she didn't want her parents to know about her illness until a future visit. This visit was for getting to know Delphine, for accepting Cosima as a clone, and for reconnecting as a family. 

“Uh, yeah,” Cosima said, shifting under her mother's hand. “It's sort of an unintended side effect of the infertility sequence. It's nothing to worry about, though.”

“Because you have a cure,” Helena said, popping another chip into her mouth. 

“Yes, we do.”

“What kind of sickness are we talking about?” Gene asked. “Like, a cancer or an endometriosis or something?”

“Mmmm....” Everyone's eyes were on Cosima now, even Alison's, who had been focused on the dishes before now. “You could think of it that way.”

“I could?”

“You could. It's hard to qualify because there's not really a pre-existing framework for clone disease. That's part of what I'm working on for my dissertation, but the research is just lacking.”

“But you're okay now?”

“Oh, yeah, totally cured. 100%.” 

Her parents relaxed a little until Helena said, “You had nose tube, sestra.”

“Yeah, well, I mean, just for, like, a minute. Everybody has nose tubes at some point in their life.”

That was a bit of a stretch, Delphine thought, but she wasn't going to be the one who questioned it. And then Alison stepped in.

“Cosima, you never told your parents that you were sick?”

Redness rose up Cosima's throat and cheeks, and she scratched her head. “It wasn't a big deal, yeah?” In her tone, Delphine heard her other meaning – that disclosure was Cosima's decision, and no one else's.

“Don't you think they might've wanted to know?” Alison pushed on. “That their daughter was _dying_?”

Sally and Gene reacted exactly as Delphine expected. They leaned almost out of their chairs towards Cosima, and they spoke over each other. “Dying?” “Cosima, really?” “Why is this the first time we're hearing about this?”

As their voices washed over her, Cosima stared at her sister. “Alison,” she said, “could you, like.... _not_ do shit like that? Please?”

The cacophony from the Niehauses drew Kira over. She leaned against her mother's shoulder and watched various emotions play over everyone's faces. 

“Cosima,” Sally asked gently, her hand on her arm, “you told us, last week when we were first talking about all of this and getting used to everything, that you were safe. You told us that you were safe even though all these crazy things were happening. Was that... was that not true?”

Delphine held her hand and tried telepathically to tell her that whatever she said or did was okay, that she had Delphine's support, even if she lied to them. 

“Alison,” Cosima said again, “you did not have the right to share that information without my consent.”

Alison shook her head. “You don't understand, Cosima. You're not a mother. I can only imagine, if my daughter disappeared for two years, without talking to me, and then I found out from _someone else_ that she was very seriously ill, and you were seriously ill, Cosima, don't give me that look. Your mother, your parents... they have a right to know how you are.”

“Yeah?” Cosima said. 

Delphine's skin prickled; she knew that look on Cosima's face. It was the same look that had once told her _“It showed,”_ that had lied straight to her face about Duncan's book. 

“So,” Cosima went on, “does your mother know that you dealt drugs out of her soap store, then? Does she know you had to slip out of a campaign event because drug lords were threatening your husband? Does she? She has a right, you said, to know about you.”

Alison's lips hardened, and Kira's eyes went wide. Cosima stood up and left the table, followed by Delphine.

“Where are you going?” she asked when she saw Cosima dig her coat out of the pile near the door.

“I'm taking a walk. I need to clear my head.”

“Should I come with you?”

“No. No, you... stay here for now. Talk to people. Tell them...” Cosima took a deep breath and looked back into the house, where everyone else understood that she needed some space. “Tell them whatever you want.”

“I won't tell them anything unless you say...”

“Delphine, love, tell them anything. Tell them everything. It doesn't matter now. You have my consent.” She kissed Delphine on the lips, then opened the door and headed out into the gray 10 degree day.

For a minute, Delphine stood by the window and watched her fiancée stride off down the street, her hands in her pockets and her head bowed against the wind. Then she felt a small hand on her elbow. 

“She'll be okay,” Kira said. “She's just a little upset now.”

“Yes, she is.” 

Kira stood and watched with her as Cosima rounded the corner of the neighborhood and walked out of sight. “We're making hot chocolate. Do you want some?”

“Only if we make some for Cosima when she comes back, too.”

Back in the kitchen, Sally Niehaus sat still with her hands over her mouth, Gene's arm around her shoulders. Helena was back in the living room, trying to solve Charlotte's new Rubik's cube, while Sarah and Alison continued the conversation in front of the basement door and a pot of milk warmed on the stove.

“Well, I don't know why she got so mad at me when Helena's the one who brought it up!”

Sarah had one hand in her hair and the other on her hip. “Helena's a bit different, though, isn't she?”

“I just don't know what the big deal is, why she's so upset. Was I lying? Was I exaggerating? I don't think so. She wants us to act like she was never sick, like she didn't have a hospital bed installed in her lab, like she wasn't coughing up blood all the time...”

Delphine stepped over. “That's not what she wants.”

“Oh? That's certainly how it seems to me.”

Delphine chewed her lip, but remembered the last words Cosima told her. _“You have my consent.”_

“She just wanted to be the one who brought it up herself, when she was ready,” Delphine told her. “She wanted to have more control over the disclosure. It's not about keeping secrets.”

Alison's hand lingered on the cross at her throat. “Well, she could have just said so instead of dragging up all that drug dealer information.”

“She did say that,” Kira said. “She said you didn't have her permission to share it.”

The pot of milk bubbled, and Kira added a few scoops of cocoa powder and sugar, then stirred it. Once it was creamy and frothy, Delphine helped her ladle it into mugs and pass them around. Then, with her own mug in hand, she sat at the table with Cosima's parents. Sarah, Alison, and Kira all went into the living room to pretend nothing tense had happened.

“Delphine,” Gene Niehaus began, “can you be honest with us?”

“I think so.”

“You've been involved with... 'Clone Club' I guess it's called, for some time, correct?”

“That's correct.”

He paused, running his fingers together as he gathered his thoughts. “How much information do we not know at this point?”

Delphine let out a slow breath. “That's difficult to quantify.”

“Mhm. You see, Cosima told us a lot when we first got here, obviously, and it was a lot for us to take in, but it's becoming increasingly apparent that she left out _large_ amounts of information when she told us about it.”

Remembering the list of topics that Cosima hadn't wanted them to find out about during this visit, namely her illness, Delphine nodded. “I believe so, yes.”

“So I'm going to repeat my earlier question. Can you be honest with us?”

 _“You have my consent,”_ Cosima had said. _“Tell them anything. Tell them everything.”_

“Yes. I can be honest with you. Cosima said that I could be.”

Sally took her hands from mouth. “Was she actually in danger? Was she terminally ill?”

“Yes.”

“And is she actually better now? Completely, like she says?”

“Yes. We've run tests every month to make sure, and there's no sign of recurrence. She's completely healthy now.”

“Was she in the hospital?” Sally asked.

“Yes, briefly.”

“What were the symptoms?” Sally asked. 

“Bloody coughs and difficulty breathing were the most obvious, but she also had blood in her urine along with lower back pain, uterine hemorrhaging, and at least one seizure.”

“Oh my God...” Sally turned to bury her face in her husband's shoulder. 

Gene took it more stoically. “Was there surgery or...”

“No, nothing that required general anesthesia.”

“Local anesthesia?” 

Delphine remembered the early treatment of the polyps in Cosima's uterus, using the pulp from Kira's baby teeth. “Yes, she had to have a spinal block for one of the treatments.”

“What kind of treatment?” Sally asked.

“There were masses in her uterus, and we used stem cell therapy to treat them.”

Tears spilled out of Sally's eyes as she looked up. “I knew something was wrong,” she said. “I knew it. Cosima doesn't go two years without talking to us unless _something_ is wrong. I was right.”

 _I haven't talked to my parents in far longer than two years,_ Delphine reflected. _Do they think that something's wrong?_

Scott slid into his chair at the table next to Gene, setting a bottle of peppermint schnapps on the table for everyone. “She wanted to talk to you,” he assured Cosima's parents. “She really did. She told me again and again about how she was going to explain everything once she finally got the chance. She just didn't know if she'd ever get that chance, and it was way too risky for any of us to reach you guys back then. She didn't even tell us your first names because it was so risky. You don't understand what it was like.”

Gene took the schnapps and added a sizable dose to his cocoa. “Apparently we don't. That's kind of the problem right now. Why don't you tell us what it was like. You were, what, her lab partner, right?”

Scott nodded. “Along with Delphine, at different points.”

“You've been in it since the beginning, too, then.”

“Uhh... haha, I wouldn't say the beginning. Cosima was already living up here and working for Dyad before I knew I was involved. And even then, I didn't know Cosima was the clone we were working on until Ethan Duncan showed up, and Cosima was pretty sick by then.” He spun his cocoa mug in his hands, lost in memories. “She hid it pretty well for a while. For months we were studying this clone, 324B21, right, and we talked about the respiratory disease this clone had, and how the disease was progressing, and all the possible ways to treat it, and the whole time, we were talking about Cosima. She studied herself, worked on this cure for herself.”

“Not just her,” Delphine said.

“Oh, I know, I mean, I worked it too, and you were obviously a huge part of it.”

“No, I mean, she didn't just do it for herself. She did it for all of her sisters, even the ones she hadn't met yet.” Turning to Cosima's parents, she gave them a small smile. “You should be very proud of her.”

They sat and drank spiked cocoa, listening to the Canadian Brass Christmas album Alison must have brought over and the children playing. It had been ten minutes since Cosima left. Delphine would wait ten more minutes before she started to worry about her.

“I just want to know,” Sally said, “why Cosima didn't tell us. We could have helped. We're scientists. Her uncle is a surgeon, for crying out loud; we have connections in the medical field.”

“Oh, your lives would have been in danger if you knew,” Scott said, and Delphine nodded along.

“It was too dangerous. Neolution was powerful, you don't understand. They killed people for knowing too much, or being in the wrong place at the wrong time, or for trying to protect the clones in ways Neolution didn't want them to.”

“You remember all those names we said during grace?” Scott said. “Most of those people were killed by Neolution, directly or indirectly.”

“Cosima wanted to protect you,” Delphine assured them. “She never wanted to lie to you.”

Sally and Gene let that sink in some, and the front door opened, revealing a red-nosed Cosima. After so much talk about Cosima's illness made Delphine think of the night Cosima showed up at Revival, hypothermic and semi-conscious, and now she rushed over to her in the same way, knocking over a pile of empty boxes in the process. “Hey,” she said. “How are you?”

“F...f...f...fine.” Her hands shook as she removed her gloves, then her hat and scarf. Delphine helped her with her coat. “H...hh.... how are th...things h...hh....here?”

Delphine wrapped her arms around Cosima and pulled her close. “They're okay. Your parents know a lot more than they did before.”

Cosima nodded against the side of her face. “Okay.”

“They're a little emotional now.”

Another nod, and an exhale. “Okay. You feel good, though.”

“That's because I'm warm. Come in more. There's hot chocolate and peppermint schnapps for you.”

They held hands and wove their way through the mess on the living room floor. Alison looked up from her new _Musicals: the Definitive Illustrated Story_ book that she'd gotten from Felix. “Cosima,” she began, then paused. “I'm sorry for not consulting earlier.”

Cosima's eyebrows went up in surprise, but Delphine thought the apology was probably linked as much to how miserable Cosima looked right now than to much change of heart on Alison's part.

“Yeah, I'm sorry for not talking to you about it earlier, too,” Cosima said. “You didn't know.”

Any further discussion was cut off by Sally Niehaus rushing over to pull her daughter into a crushing hug. “You silly, stupid girl,” Sally said. “I wish you had just told us how sick you were.”

Sally's heavy sweater muffled Cosima's words but couldn't hide the little flapping of Cosima's hands at her sides. 

“Now come here,” Sally told her. “Get something to warm you up; you're like an icicle!”

*

That evening, as Gene and Cosima were showing Charlotte and Oscar the basics of putting a ship in a bottle, the doorbell rang. Donnie was the closest one without his hands full, so he answered it, and a moment later Kira screamed and ran over, tackling the flannel-clad man who stepped over the threshold.

“Daddy's here!” she called out to everyone in the house. “He made it!”

“Yeah, I made it! God, you're big! What's your mom feeding you?” He struggled to get inside, pulling a dolly cart full of boxes over the threshold with Kira hanging on to his waist.

“Oh, Lord, more presents,” Alison whispered. “Where are we going to put all this stuff?”

Cal Morrison settled the dolly cart in position and pushed his dark brown locks from his forehead. Delphine had seen pictures of him before, but in person he was much more handsome. In fact, if she'd met him before Cosima, she would have set up a plan to woo him before he even said “hello.” As it was, she stood and smiled at him, an arm around Cosima's shoulders and Cosima's arm around her waist. Before she, or anyone else, could say anything, both Gemma and Charlotte gasped. 

“There's something in the box!” Gemma squealed. “Look! There's holes, and there's something moving around in there!”

Cal himself was forgotten in an instant and the kids gathered around the box at the top of the stack on the dolly. “There's kitties in there!” Kira cried. “Daddy, you got us kitties!”

 _Us_ , Delphine thought, and her heart melted. This little girl was getting a kitten for Christmas, and even in her excitement she included the rest of her family.

“Did I?” Cal said. “Oh, man, where did those come from?”

Sarah came in from the kitchen with a little smile on her face, and Delphine realized the plan. For a con artist like Sarah, it would be easy work to convince her daughter that Cal “couldn't make it to Christmas this year” but “might send a card if he gets the chance.” It also helped Delphine see the real sweetness in Charlotte's bearded dragon gift – Kira would get a pet, and so would Charlotte. Not only that, Charlotte got the news of her pet first, so she could have that joy alone for several hours without feeling overshadowed or second in line to Kira. _And Cosima's worried that Sarah doesn't know how to parent_ , she thought.

“Nice of you to stop by,” Sarah told Cal, with a smirk. “I hear we're getting kittens.”

“Yeah, I guess they just hitched a ride on top of all the other presents, so here they are! But first...” He held out a hand to Charlotte. “We haven't been introduced. I'm Cal. You must be Charlotte.”

“Yes.” Charlotte gave him a limp handshake, too shy for much more than that, apparently. 

“Well, it's very nice to meet you Charlotte. Do you like cats?”

She nodded.

“Great. There's a couple things I need to know, though, before I decide if these kitties are gonna stay, or I should keep on moving up the road to the animal shelter. I mean, I'm sure someone will adopt them if....”

“No!!” 

“Okay,” Cal went on. “First, I need to know who's gonna feed these kitties. `cause if no one's gonna feed `em...”

“I will!” Kira said. 

“You will! Great! What are you gonna feed `em?”

Kira looked over at her mother, who said, “Probably cat food, Monkey.”

“Cat food,” Kira said. 

“Excellent. Okay, next question. When these kitties use the bathroom in their litter box, it's gonna fill up pretty quick. Who's gonna clean up the litter box for them so it doesn't get all nasty?”

The response was underwhelming, but Kira still said, “I will.”

“Awesome! Two outta three. Last question. We're gonna need some ground rules for these kitties so they stay safe. What can we do to make sure they stay safe?”

Kira's mouth hung open, but she had no answer. Charlotte stepped in to help. “We can make sure they don't go outside,” she said. “So they don't get hit by a car.”

“That's a start,” Cal said. “Your street isn't super busy, but that's something to consider. What else? What are things that people have to do sometimes to stay safe and healthy?”

“Go to the doctor?” Charlotte guessed.

“Right. So these kitties will have to go to the vet once in a while to get checked up, and sometimes they might need some medicine. Can you two help with that?”

Naturally, they said they could. Sarah reminded Charlotte about needing to keep her future bearded dragon safely tucked away, and the big moment arrived. Cal set the box on the ground and removed the lid. With the children's heads in the way, Delphine couldn't see anything, but there were squeals and gasps and giggles. Alison ran a video on her phone. Soon, the kittens were picked up and held in the air for all to see. There were two, a tuxedo male and a calico female, both about three months old. 

Cal watched from the edge of the group, hands in his pockets. “I think I'll leave the rest of the presents for tomorrow,” he told Sarah. “I'm not gonna have anyone's attention for the rest of the night.”

“No,” Sarah said, watching her daughter play with the tuxedo kitten. “You're not.”

The kids passed the kittens around the room next, and debated various names for them. The kittens would sleep in the girls' room tonight with a box of kitty litter that Sarah just _happened_ to have and a few cans of kitten food that Cal had brought. 

“One of these years,” Cosima told Delphine, “I am getting you a puppy.”

 _One of these years._ Delphine looked down at Cosima snuggled into the crook of her arm, her face now flushed with warmth and spiked eggnog rather than cold. “Okay,” she said. “I look forward to it.”


	14. Christmas, Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one has sex in it. Finally.

They spent the night at Sarah's house, on an old air mattress of hers in the basement with Helena and the twins. The Hendrixes had returned to their extended stay hotel so they could sleep well before diving back into home reparations the next day, and Cosima's parents were sent back to their hotel in an Uber. Art left early, too, so he could spend all today with his daughter. Felix was too drunk to drive, so he got the couch, and Scott got the former guest bedroom, which was normally Charlotte's. 

“This feels like college,” Cosima whispered after they settled in around 10 pm.

“College?”

“Yeah, crashing in someone's basement after a crazy big day or a late party. This is an upgrade, though. Most times I crashed with a bunch of people, I just slept on the floor.”

Delphine had never slept on a floor as an adult, and only rarely as a child, if she fell asleep playing or reading. “That sounds unpleasant.”

Cosima laughed. “Yeah, it was. Especially when you wake up and realize you spent the night in a puddle of orange juice.”

Helena leaned her head over the side of her twin bed. “Where did you sleep like this, Sestra?”

“Oh, just a friend's house in San Fran after a party. There was probably vodka in the orange juice, too, but the OJ was all I could smell.”

Helena regarded her sister with wide eyes that, along with her posture, reminded Delphine of a child leaning over the top bunk to talk to a friend in the lower one. “I was made to sleep in water once, in convent. Very shallow water, this much.” She held up her fingers to show an inch or two distance. “But cold, and unpleasant.”

Cosima reached out from under the blankets and held Helena's hand. “I'm sorry.”

Helena looked over at the crib containing her sleeping infants. “They will not do that.”

“No,” Cosima agreed. “They won't.”

*

The following morning, with Christmas in the past and everyone moving on with real life, felt like a hangover, even though Delphine swore she'd only had one cup of eggnog. It didn't help that the air mattress they'd slept on was almost flat by the time she woke up. When she stood to use the bathroom, the remaining air in it rushed to fill her space, dropping Cosima the last few centimeters onto the floor. 

They slouched around the dining room table for breakfast pancakes prepared by Scott, who was perkier than anyone had a right to be on the day after Christmas. The girls brought the kittens down for breakfast, too, and let them bounce around the main floor with the babies, who insisted on calling them, and everything else with four legs and fur, “Beh! Beh!” 

“God, that's the cutest frikkin' thing I've ever seen,” Cosima groaned. “I am not ready for this much cute. Scotty, some coffee, please.”

“They kept waking us up,” Charlotte said. “They wanted to play with Montgomery, because Montgomery's awake at night, so maybe tomorrow night they'll be in a different room.”

“Who's Montgmery?” Scott asked.

“Montgomery's my spiny mouse,” Kira said. “He's from the Island of Dr. Moreau.”

Meanwhile, Delphine flipped through the forty-five Facebook pages she kept open on her phone, refreshing them and looking for anything suspicious. Many of them hadn't updated in days. Many more had Christmas messages and pictures up, each page showing the same face in varying levels of tan, with different hair styles, often surrounded by friends or family and sending the greeting in ten different different languages. Even one of the Israeli clones posted a Christmas message, but without any picture. 

“I'm not allowed to be on my phone at the table,” Kira said. 

Delphine looked at her with bleary eyes. “That's probably a good rule.”

“Delphine's doing clone business,” Cosima told Kira. “It's part of our morning routine.”

“You're not doing any clone business.” Kira gave her a sly smile and poured what must've been a cup of maple syrup onto her pancakes. Her mother was still upstairs, probably enjoying a rare late morning.

“Yeah, I'm being lazy,” Cosima said. “I'll do my job later.”

Charlotte took the syrup from Kira and helped herself. “You already did your job, though. You made the treatment.”

“Yes, but we need to find all the sisters to make sure they get it, and some of them might be super sick right now. We need to find out if there are any that need to be cured right away. All the others will have to wait if that's the case.”

“So that's why Delphine's on Facebook.”

“Exactly. She checks Facebook and SnapChat, and I check Instagram and Twitter. We look to see if anybody is maybe coughing a lot more than usual, or having a hard time breathing, or if any of their friends say 'get well soon' or anything like that.”

“And I try to streamline it all for them,” Scott said, setting another plate of pancakes on the table with a grin. “That part's taking some time, though. The code's too buggy right now to work.”

A little after nine, Sarah and Cal finally stumbled downstairs, bedraggled and blinking in their pajamas. The adults and Kira waved to them, but Charlotte stared, a little frown on her face. _She knows what they did last night,_ Delphine thought. _And she's just at that age when that starts to matter._

In an effort to distract her, Delphine sat down next to Charlotte's new reptile habitat. “Can I look at this?”

“Um, yeah. Sure.” 

As she'd hoped, Charlotte came over and sat with her. For each item that Delphine picked up, Charlotte provided an explanation, even if it was obvious what the item was. 

“Those are calcium supplements, and that's the heat lamp so it can bask. Reptiles are cold blooded,” she said, “so they need the lamps to stay warm.”

Delphine nodded. “Yes, they do. The kittens might really enjoy this lamp, too.”

As if on cue, the tuxedo kitten, tentatively named Pirate because of the black patch on one eye, jaunted over. Charlotte's smile, a rare sight, made her look even more like Cosima, but a little like Alison, too. 

“Did you have pets when you were a kid?” Charlotte asked her. “Cosima said she didn't.”

Delphine hadn't known that about Cosima, actually. It made sense. She had moved semi-frequently as a child and spent weeks or months at a time out to sea with her parents. “It depends on your definition of a pet,” she told Charlotte. 

Cosima padded up behind her and set a second cup of coffee on the floor next to her, then sat in the arm chair nearby, listening.

“Well,” Charlotte said, “a pet is an animal that you take care of, that lives with you, and that isn't there for food or work or anything. So, did you have a pet like that?”

She smiled at her, impressed with the comprehensive definition. “I did, but I wasn't supposed to.”

As expected, the thought of a rebellious young Delphine made Charlotte smile. “Did you bring home a puppy or something? A girl at school did that.”

“Not quite.” She took a sip of coffee. It was from a bag of beans they'd mailed up from Honduras, with a bright tone and fruity notes, reminiscent of warm mornings spent at an open-air cafe near the jungle. “I went to summer camp in the country for a few years. It was a nature camp, but most of the girls didn't really care much for nature.”

Charlotte smiled again. She knew about most girls, and about being different from them. 

“One summer,” Delphine went on, “when I was ten, I found a wolf spider outside the washroom. It was the largest spider I'd ever seen in real life, outside of a museum or a book.” 

Charlotte's eyes widened. This story wasn't going where she thought, and she was hooked.

“I found a paper cup in the trash and I scooped the spider into it, and put some paper on top to keep it inside, and I showed my... teachers? Is that the word, Cosima?”

“Teachers? For what?”

“At summer camp, there are children and there are adults. The children are campers. What are the adults?”

“Counselors. I think calling them _adults_ might be stretching it, at least in the US, though. Mine were always, like, eighteen or nineteen.”

“Whatever. Counselors. I showed my counselor this spider, and she was very impressed. She went out and got me a little clear plastic box with a lid, and we put the spider in there. We said he was probably a male because there were no eggs, and the females carry the eggs on their abdomen where you can see them.”

“Did you name him?” Charlotte asked.

“I did.” She giggled despite herself. She had not told anyone this story in a very long time. “I named him Monsieur Loup.”

Charlotte laughed. “Mister Wolf?”

“Oui. It seemed appropriate. And then, when my mother's driver came to pick me up, I put Monsieur Loup in my suitcase and I took him home with me.”

She felt Cosima's foot rubbing her back. “That's adorable,” Cosima said. “How well did that go over when you got home?”

“Well, I unpacked my suitcase and put Monsieur Loup on one side of my closet, behind my shoes. I didn't tell anyone that he was there.”

While they talked, Pirate had curled up in Charlotte's lap, and his purrs could be heard across the room when there was a lull in the conversation. Charlotte scratched under his little chin. “How did you feed him?” she asked, “if he lived in your closet?”

“Well, I found a book at the library about keeping spiders as pets, so I put twigs and dirt in his box, and I caught insects around my mother's garden from him to eat.”

“And no one suspected anything?” Cosima asked. 

“Not for a while. I had a lot of freedom in, euh, in some areas.” She drank some coffee and watched Charlotte pet her new kitten. “But my mother never allowed animals in the house. Of any kind, unless they were being eaten. And as tricky as I was, I was only 10 years old, so I wasn't so good about hiding. About a month after I brought Monsieur Loup home from camp, my mother couldn't find me where I was supposed to be, and when she went looking she found me in the closet looking at my pet spider, whom I had just moved into a larger tank without anyone noticing.”

“What did she do?” Charlotte asked.

“Well. Suffice to say, Monsieur Loup did not get to enjoy his new habitat, or any other habitat, for very long. And I was grounded for the rest of the summer.”

Charlotte had big sad eyes for the fate of poor Monsieur Loup, but the dorobell rang, shocking everyone.

“I got it.” Sarah shuffled over and opened the door, then came back in with two packages that she turned around a few times in her hands. “One for Kira and one for Charlotte,” she said, distributing them accordingly, “but it doesn't say from who.”

The girls tore into their new packages, Pirate forgotten for just the moment. Inside each box was a wrapped gift tied in ribbon, still with no sender's name. Kira ripped the paper from hers with the same fervor as the day before, breaking the ribbon in the process, but Charlotte proceded with caution, peeling back one taped flap of paper at a time as though there might actually be a grenade inside. 

“It's a kit for making jewelry!” Kira exclaimed, holding it up for them to see. “Look, there's colored threads, and beads, and little hooks...”

“And a card,” Cosima pointed out, “on the floor now.”

While Kira looked for the card Cosima was pointing at, Charlotte removed the paper from her own gift, revealing a set of twelve water color paints with three brushes. Like Kira's jewelry set, the text on the watercolors and brushes was Chinese, or perhaps Japanese kanji. Delphine picked up one of the post boxes and saw that they, too, came from China or Japan. 

“'Merry Christmas',” Charlotte read from the card attached to hers. “'You always enjoyed painting, so I hope you enjoy these paints, as well. I wish you all the best for the new year, and give my best to your sisters. Rachel.'” 

Kira found her card and read it silently, her manic excitement fading. 

“Is yours from Rachel, too?” Charlotte asked. 

Kira nodded. “But there's no return address! She didn't say where she is now!”

“Well,” Delphine pointed out, “all of these have Chinese or Japanese script on them. And I know that she always showed a certain, ehm, fondness for east Asia.”

Scott lingered behind them, hands in his pockets. “Yeah, she always talked about having a quiet life in Taiwan. I bet that's where she is now. It was super nice of her to send you guys presents, though! She didn't send me anything.” He gave a laugh that turned into a snort.

“We can find a way to get her a message for you,” Cosima said. “It might not happen right away, and it might not be in exactly the way that you want, but we can try to make it happen.”

It occurred to Delphine that she could think of no other people on the planet who would cry at the thought of not seeing Rachel Duncan, or anyone who would miss her at all, in fact. No one except the two little girls sitting in front of her. “We could leave a message of some kind on the Foundation's website,” she suggested. “We can take your pictures and post them there. Rachel knows about it, and I believe she checks on it periodically.”

The last part was conjecture, but it made the girls relax, and it might have even been true.

* * * * 

By the time Delphine and Cosima got back to the Rabbit Hole, it was early afternoon. A nap was in order for both of them, and after that a shower, and by the time Delphine felt awake enough to function again it was close to evening. While Cosima toweled off behind her, Delphine wrapped herself in a bathrobe and padded over to the closet and dug around her side of it until she found the bag she had hidden there.

“What're you looking for?” Cosima asked.

Holding the bag behind her back, Delphine stuck her head out of the closet and bit her lower lip. “You haven't paid me back yet for that bratty comment you made the other night.”

Cosima paused, her eyes moving back and forth. She wore her crimson harem pants and nothing else, and her nipples puckered as her skin cooled from the shower. 

“Don't tell me you've forgotten it.”

“Wait. Oh, shit, was it that stupid Leekie comment I made?”

“That would be the one.”

Cosima rolled her head around and tried to look apologetic. “You know I didn't mean that, right?”

“It doesn't matter what you meant.” Delphine stalked over, bag still behind her. “And besides, I'm pretty sure I know exactly what your intentions were, chérie.”

“Okay, yeah, sometimes I do like to be a brat. Fair.”

“You do. And sometimes I have to make you pay me back for that. Like right now.” She took the bag from behind her and handed it to Cosima, whose guilty face lit up like a Christmas tree when she looked inside.

“Holy shit, Delphine! If _this_ is how you want me to pay you back, I need to be naughty _way_ more often.”

“I did tell you that you could only pay me back if you were good, didn't I?”

Cosima's canines flashed as she reached into the bag. “Yes......” 

Even just watching Cosima's excitement at pulling the harness from the bag made Delphine's hips twitch. “Initially,” she said, “before you made your crass little remark on Thursday, I was going to ask you to wear it. However, since you've apparently forgotten why I slept with you the first time, you get to be on the, euh, _receiving_ end of this.”

She sidestepped Cosima and snatched the harness, complete with all accoutrements, from Cosima's hands as she moved past her.

“That sounds, uh.... really fucking awesome, actually. Wait, hang on, there's _more_ in that bag?”

Delphine set the harness, dildo, and controller on the foot of the bed, took a length of black satin in her right hand, and paused. Did she really want to cover up Cosima's eyes when they sparkled like this? When she knew how beautiful they would be the entire time they fucked? She had a few minutes to think about it. In the meantime, she got out the set of leather cuffs and gestured for Cosima to lay down on her back with her arms out.

Cosima was more than happy to oblige, testing out the strength and comfort of the restraints while grinning and wiggling like an idiot. “So this was the extra present you mentioned yesterday,” she said. 

“Yes. I thought you might've suspected.”

“It was more hope than suspicion.” Now both of Cosima's arms were bound to the bed post, to the side and a bit above her head, and her head rested on the most comfortable pillow of the pillow menagerie Alison had donated. “I'll guess we'll see how strong this headboard is.”

“You're not still sleepy, are you?”

“Fuck no.”

“Good.” Delphine kissed her, first softly, hovering just as the point of contact with her lips, then more deeply, until she felt her resolve slipping, and she pulled away. “Because I don't plan on being quick.”

“Nnngggg......”

 _Yes_ , she thought. _Perfect_. The strip of black satin came out of her robe pocket after all, and Delphine tied it around Cosima's eyes, first checking that she was okay with it. 

“I mean, I was really hoping to see you in that strap on,” Cosima said as the fabric covered her eyes, “but as long as you promise to wear it again....”

“If you're good.” Delphine kissed her again, then dropped some light kisses down her throat before standing up. “Now stay there.”

There was a little chuckle at the joke, but Cosima's grin had turned into a pout. A flush already spread over her chest and neck, and her left leg jiggled up and down, probably brushing the fabric of the pants against her clit. Delphine reached out and pulled her pants off, without needing to prompt Cosima to even lift her hips.

The harness took a moment to get right, even though she'd practiced putting it on and taking it off once before. The little vibrating piece in the center was turned off for now. She'd selected it with Cosima in mind, wanting to see Cosima come as Cosima fucked her brains out. With the positions reversed, she worried it would be too much for her, that it might make her come before Cosima did. She took it out, but set it close by for easy access later. Next, she made sure there was enough cushioning between the base of the dildo and her pubic bone, and then she climbed back on the bed, her knees between Cosima's calves and a hand on either side of her hips.

“Still here, chérie?”

“Oh yes.”

“Good.” 

She'd debated getting a feather for this purpose, but as she drew her middle finger up the inside of Cosima's right thigh, she was glad she hadn't. Cosima's skin turned her on more than almost anything, and it was hard to hold back, hard not to just grab her thigh with both hands and chew on it. 

She held back.

Cosima squirmed under her fingers, twisting her hips around and bouncing her legs, then wrapping them around Delphine's thighs and hips like a monkey. She tried bucking her pelvis up to meet the silicone cock between Delphine's legs, her core muscles rippling under her skin. 

“Non,” Delphine said. “Not yet.” She pushed her down by the hips and pried Cosima's legs off of her, then wiggled down to the foot of the bed, the cock wiggling along with her. With one of Cosima's shins in each hand to get her somewhat still, she nibbled the inside of her right knee, then inside her thigh, bit by bit, her hands traveling up with her until she breathed in the rich smell of Cosima's sex a few centimeters from her face. Then she pulled back.

“You fucking tease,” Cosima said.

“Oui.” She repeated the process on Cosima's left leg, stopping again just short of her clit. This time, she didn't pull back. She blew a gentle stream of air between her legs and grinned at the frustrated moan she got in return. “I told you I wasn't going to be quick,” she said, nipping the sexy little jut of Cosima's hip bone.

Cosima's hipbones had intoxicated her from the beginning. It was those hips, moving in casual tandem with her body after Cosima striped down to her underwear their first time together, that pushed Delphine over the edge from “school girl crush I can roll with to do my job” and into “holy shit I need to be with this woman” territory. And now, both hands gripping her hips, Delphine lavished all of her attention there, rememorizing the topography of her lover's pelvis with its tastes and textures.

She looked up every so often, when she felt a particularly strong thrust or spasm from Cosima, to see her straining against the leather cuffs, the muscles of her arms and shoulders swelling against her skin. 

“You're beautiful,” she whispered against her stomach.

“And you're a fucking tease.”

“I believe -” Delphine worried the skin of her waist with her teeth. “- we've already discussed that.”

There was only so much she could tease, though, before it became too much for herself. She licked and sucked on Cosima's nipples until Cosima growled and stomped her feet against the bed in frustration, Delphine's own legs keeping hers from getting too assertive. And she smelled like sex, deliciously so. It went to Delphine's head much faster than she'd planned. She'd hoped to drag Cosima along for an hour or so, frustrating her enough to approach actual punishment without causing her to really _suffer_. She'd done it before; she could do it again.

 _Yes,_ said the horny little voice in her head, _but that was two years ago. Your endurance is too low now. You can't last an hour. You'll slip up if you try._

It was true. She moved up more to kiss Cosima's throat, her shoulders, her jaw. “Are you still comfortable?”

“My arms are fine,” Cosima gasped. “But I'm not comfortable.”

“Soon, mon amour.” She tugged on Cosima's ear. “Very soon.”

She gave Cosima a little leeway to move her hips around, feeling the jolt to her own clit every time Cosima's body bumped against the strap-on. She'd been right to remove to other piece – she would come in ten seconds once that thing went in. 

“Please,” Cosima wimpered. “It's been, like five days.”

“Ohh, pauvre petit chiot.” She slid her hands up Cosima's rib cage, lightening the pressure as they reached her breasts, becoming feather-light and moving in little circles.

“NO! No no no! Don't you fucking do it, Cormier!”

Delphine fell cackling onto Cosima's body while Cosima thrashed around under her. “No?” she giggled. “Hnnnn... okay.”

She pulled herself back up onto all four and kissed her face until Cosima's breathing slowed down again. It was time to be sweet. She kept her own hips held high enough to be out of Cosima's reach, though, and slid her tongue into her mouth. The last time she'd tied Cosima up, her mouth tasted a little like pot and a little more like blood, most of the time. These days she tasted like chai tea, toothpaste, or nothing at all. 

Pulling away from the kiss, Delphine shifted her weight back and stroked a line down Cosima's stomach, watching her face as she moved down past her navel. “You're beautiful,” she whispered again. 

Cosima might've replied, but Delphine's fingers slipped between her legs then, and all she got out was a combination moan / gasp. Delphine stayed there for a bit, rubbing little circles on Cosima's clit with her thumb and sliding her index finger inside of her as Cosima's breath sped up and her hips bucked up to try for more pressure, more penetration, just _more_. And she was more than beautiful, Delphine thought.

She took her hand away, gently shushing Cosima's frustrated snarl, and grabbed the little knob the harness came with. “Just a second, chérie,” she said. It took some wiggling and a few brief pinches, but she got it into its little holder in the harness, just right so it slipped into her vagina when she readjusted the harness. It felt so damn good when it did that she gasped.

“Do not tell me you're getting off without me,” Cosima deadpanned. Her knees were bent up, so Delphine had a nice clear shot at her ass when she smacked her. 

“Non. Just getting ready.” 

She set the controller by Cosima's right side. By now her own hips were twitching of their own accord, so she needed to hurry up. Nudging Cosima's legs back open, she threw herself on top of her, biting and kissing the sides of her neck up to her ears before kissing her mouth again. Cosima noticed the change in Delphine's demeanor even with her eyes covered. She softened under Delphine's hands, her legs relaxed some, and when Delphine pulled back from her mouth, she smiled. 

The strap-on took a bit of concentration. She hadn't worn one in two years, and even then not very often. It was average-sized, ribbed and curved, and the color of Windex. And, like all strap-ons everywhere, it obeyed the laws of physics rather than the desires of its wearer, so it took some fiddling to get it pointing in the right direction and moving the way she wanted it to. 

Delphine sat back on her haunches and held the base in her left hand, fucking Cosima ever so slowly with her right hand until she was certain she was ready. Then she leaned forward, biting her lip with concentration, and guided her fake silicone cock inside Cosima's body. 

“Oh, shit...” Cosima breathed. 

“Alright?” Delphine asked. “Is it...?”

“It's...” Cosima's breath caught as Delphine shifted her hips. “It's fucking f... God, it's really good, please don't stop.”

She grinned and bit her lip, setting up a slow rhythm and going a little bit deeper with each thrust. As she'd expected, the strap-on itself wasn't positioned to do anything for her – the pleasure with that was watching Cosima's lips tremble and widen, and her nostrils flare as she panted. The little knob tucked into the harness and pushing against her vagina, however, nudged her closer and closer, helped along by the straps tugging on her ass. She grit her teeth and grabbed the headboard with one hand, angling her pelvis to go deeper into Cosima but also inching the inner straps up and in to rub on her clit. 

“Oh mon dieu,” she whispered, followed by a ragged little whine.

“Take it off,” Cosima said.

“What?” She froze. 

“Take it off, take the mask off. I wanna see you.”

Delphine hesitated, her body desperately trying to get to an orgasm and her mind fighting to stay present, with Cosima. She took her hand off the headboard and leaned her weight onto her right arm.

“Let me see you.” Cosima was begging now. “You're so beautiful when you come, please let me see you.”

“Okay.” Untying it would be too complicated, so she hooked her thumb at the bridge of Cosima's nose and pushed the blindfold up to her forehead, then smoothed out the bottom so it didn't irritate her eyebrows. “Is that okay?”

Cosima blinked a few times, her pupils contracting in the light. Then she smiled. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Now was as good a time as any, Delphine thought, so she grabbed the little controller and pushed the top button, setting both the dildo and the inner piece to a low vibrate that made both of them gasp and moan at the same time. 

“Holy shit, Delphine!” Cosima cried. 

There were no more words after that. Delphine propped herself up by one arm, hanging onto the bedframe with her own, and fucked Cosima until they both screamed and Delphine banged her head on the metal bars. 

She pulled out of Cosima before turning off the vibrations, and accidentally turned them up instead of off, causing another, not entirely pleasant orgasm that made her squeak like a hamster. Soon, though, she turned it off, unstrapped Cosima from the bed and herself from the dildo, and she collapsed with Cosima on top of her. 

“How was it?” she asked after a few minutes, stroking Cosima's hair and removing the blindfold entirely.

Cosima chuckled. “It was pretty good once you started fucking me. I think it's my favorite Christmas present this year. How about you?”

“I think it was good, but I think we'll need to try it again to make sure.” She touched the top of her head, where a bruise was developing. At least her hair covered it up.

“Mmm. Yes. Rigorous scientific testing. You're very good at that.”

She felt Cosima's body get heavier in her arms and her breath slow. Their lamps were on in the living unit, but the lab was now dark. With some reluctance, she rubbed Cosima's arm.

“We're having dinner with your parents,” she said. “At 7.”

“It's not really a good time for that,” Cosima muttered. “We're both naked.”

Delphine pinched her side. “Little brat.”

“Yes, ma'am. I'm your little brat.”


	15. Chapter 15

Cosima had not been swimming in way too long. She was in shape, sure, but she wasn't in _swimming_ shape. After her first lap in the hotel pool, she stopped and held onto the wall for a few minutes to get her breath, letting her feet bob up in the water. Her lungs weren't thrilled with the exertion, but it was a good kind of soreness, the kind that encouraged greater effort, not less. 

It took her a while to remember the last time she'd been in water that wasn't a bath....

Minnesota. That was when. During her first week at UMN, she'd swum every day at the athletic center, but then her course load and Clone Business stacked up, and then this super hot French “graduate student” appeared, and she never had the time again. 

She did a few more laps at a slow pace, practicing the butterfly, backstroke, and freestyle. The pool was a good size for a hotel pool, and it looked like they might have it all to themselves for the morning. When she stopped again, she saw the fuzzy shape of her mother at the edge of the pool, in a pinkish one-piece bathing suit, looking down at her. 

“Sweetie, please tell me you're not really going to Syria.”

Cosima shook her head. “Excuse me?”

“Delphine says you're going to Syria in a few months, and I just...” Sally flapped her free hand around some. “I just can't see how that's a good idea.”

Cosima pulled herself out of the water. Delphine and Charlotte stood nearby, wrapped in bath sheets, and Gene had already claimed one of the lounge chairs. 

“Well,” Cosima said, shaking some water from her ears, “Our records say that three of our sisters live in Syria. Or they lived there when the list was compiled, anyway. We're not gonna let them die of Clone Disease just because Syria's kinda going through some stuff right now.”

Gene snorted from his lounge chair. “ _Going through some stuff?_ That's putting it mildly.”

Charlotte limped over, her bath sheet brushing the tops of her bare feet. “You could talk to Latifa. You know, the girl from my school. She's from Syria.”

“Maybe we will. Today, though, we have a different adventure planned, don't we?”

Charlotte chewed the side of her lower lip in a very Helena sort of way. “I guess so.”

“Only if you want to, though.”

Delphine patted Charlotte's shoulder. “You can do this. No one's expecting you to swim laps.”

“Right,” Cosima confirmed. “We just don't want you to drown if someone throws you into the deep end at Gemma's party on Friday.”

She meant it as a joke, but Charlotte's face paled, and she scooted farther back from the pool's edge. Still, Cosima thought, remembering pool parties she'd been to, being shoved or thrown into the deep end was not entirely out of the question.

“Or,” Sally chimed in, “if you decide to throw yourself over the railing of a yacht four miles from shore. Like certain other people I could mention.”

Cosima ignored the pointed look her mother gave her and led Charlotte around to the shallow end of the pool, with Delphine padding along behind them. 

“We're gonna start you off super easy and safe,” Cosima promised. “You'll be able to touch the floor whenever you want, and we'll be close by to pull you out if something goes wrong, or if you just want us to, okay?”

She nodded, but kept the bath sheet clutched close to her chest. Cosima had heard from Sarah that even getting a bathing suit for Charlotte had been a hassle – Charlotte refused to try them on at the store, and she was upset that none of the girl's suits would cover her legs unless she got a child's wet suit, which of course she did not want, either. The suit she ended up with was a dark blue one-piece, reminiscent of the US Women's Olympic Swim Team uniforms, but without the thigh coverage Charlotte wanted so much. 

While Charlotte hesitated, Delphine draped her own bath sheet on a nearby lounge chair. Cosima had been present when Delphine bought the bikini she now wore, but seeing it on her, even blurry, caused more than a moment's distraction. She wished she could wear contacts, so she wouldn't have to miss the visual details. 

“Cosima...” Charlotte said.

“Hm?”

Charlotte giggled and shook her head. “Nothing.”

“Okay, weirdo. Come on, get the sheet off and get in the water.” 

Charlotte did the first, placing her sheet next to Delphine's, but she hesitated, watching Cosima hop into the shallow end of the pool, where the water reached the bottom of her rib cage. Cosima gestured for her to come in, and Charlotte moved closer, all eyes on her. Both of Charlotte's legs looked fine while she stood still, brace-free, but when she took a few tentative steps towards Cosima, her right knee wobbled and went in strange directions, the bones not properly connecting together. Cosima gave her an encouraging smile. 

“It's alright. Just one step at a time, like everything else.”

Still, Charlotte stayed away from the edge of the pool, and her hands fidgeted at her sides in search of pockets or loops to hold on to. 

Sally swam over from the deep end, where she'd done a few short laps already, using only her arms. “You don't have to use your legs in her at all,” she said. “See?”

Cosima was starting to wonder if just getting Charlotte in the same room as a pool would be the accomplishment of the day, when Delphine sat on the edge of the pool and let her legs dangle in the water. 

“We could just sit here,” Delphine suggested. “The water feels nice.”

Charlotte limped over and used Delphine's shoulder as a support to lower herself down, then dropped her own legs into the water and let out a deep breath. “Maybe I can just do this,” she said.

“Maybe,” Cosima agreed. “If that's all you want to do, then that's all you have to do.”

Charlotte kicked at the water, watching as her left leg swung straight and effortless and her right swayed side to side. “Gemma says they have slides at the water park. And a wave pool.”

“Yeah? Does that sound like fun?”

Charlotte shrugged. “Maybe for the other kids. You have to go up steps for the water slides.”

Steps, and without a leg brace to help, because it wasn't supposed to get wet. Cosima didn't doubt that the slides themselves would be a lot of fun for Charlotte, but only if she could get to them. She thought of suggestions (hop up on one foot, get someone to carry you) but she kept them to herself. Charlotte hadn't asked for suggestions.

“We can talk to Alison about that if you want,” she said. “For today, I just want to get you more comfortable in the water, okay?”

“Okay.”

It still took Charlotte another half hour to get off of the wall and into the shallow end of the pool, after dipping her hands in a few times and then getting into a splashing war with Cosima and Delphine. When she was ready, Cosima held out her arms and helped Charlotte ease herself into the water, where she wrapped her arms around Cosima's neck and hung on like a sloth. Once her feet touched the floor, she still kept one around around Cosima, not putting any weight on her bad leg. Every five to ten minutes, Cosima took a small step back, pulling Charlotte a few more inches from the edge but never any deeper. 

Eventually, when Cosima had scooted them to the middle of the shallow end, Charlotte removed her arm from Cosima's shoulders and took a few tentative steps towards Delphine sitting on the edge of the pool. Cosima could barely make out Delphine's face from this distance, but she imagined she looked like a parent witnessing their child's first steps. 

“C'est bien!” Delphine exclaimed. “See? We said you could do it!”

Charlotte grinned, too, her arms held out for balance. “I can just stand here,” she said. “I can even balance on one leg, see?” She shifted her weight to her left and raised her right foot a few inches. 

“You sure can,” Cosima said. To give Charlotte some more inspiration, she pulled her own knees up to her chest and bobbed around like a cork, but Charlotte wasn't quite ready for that yet.

Instead, Charlotte inched closer to Delphine. She pointed to Delphine's stomach. “What happened to you there?” she asked. 

From the way Sally stopped her own floating to stand up, Cosima knew that she had been wondering the same thing. Cosima thought about saying, “It's not polite to ask people about their scars,” but she and Delphine had both told Charlotte that she could ask them anything. 

“I was shot,” Delphine said. “But I'm okay now.” 

Charlotte considered that. “Were you shot by Neolution?”

“Yes, in a way. A certain branch of it.”

Charlotte nodded. She knew about Neolution shooting people. “Does it still hurt?”

“Not right now. And when it does, it's usually easy to fix.”

“Did you cry when they shot you?”

Delphine paused and cocked her head. “Why do you want to know?”

“Just wondering.” Charlotte hopped around in the water on one foot, seeming to move past the conversation and even singing a little song, and Cosima swam over to Delphine.

Once she was close enough, she saw that Delphine was watching Charlotte with a frown. “You don't mind talking about it?” she asked, rest her hand on Delphine's thigh.

“No, not really. I'm just wondering why it matters whether I cried or not.”

“I'm sure she has her reasons.” In fact, Cosima knew her reasons. Charlotte had told her, during one of their mini trips together last week, that her friend Aisha's father had been shot, and Aisha had told her about it at Revival. Apparently, Aisha's father had cried before he died, and that was Aisha's most enduring memory of him. Cosima would check in with Charlotte, later, one-on-one, about sharing that story with Delphine.

They spent another hour at the pool, Charlotte never leaving the shallow end, until a family with several children burst into the pool room and Charlotte wanted to leave. One of the boys stared as Cosima helped Charlotte out of the pool, and all of the children stared as Charlotte hobbled over to her bath sheet. 

After the swimming lesson, they all went back upstairs to the Niehauses suit, where Sally and Gene had made themselves rather comfortable over the past week and a half. Sally even had some of the children's artwork hung up on the refrigerator along with several carry-out and delivery menus. They ate apple slices and cheese, and took turns showering. While Sally was in the shower, Delphine turned to Cosima on the couch and asked, “Did you really throw yourself off of a yacht once?” 

Cosima rolled her eyes as she finished her mouthful of cheese. “No. I did not _throw myself_ off of anything. I fell. It was an accident. By the way, thank you for asking while my mother's not here.”

“I'm here,” Gene said. “And I was there when you did that, too.”

Cosima wanted to reply, _“No, you were on the other side of the boat. That's why I was allowed to fall.”_ Instead, she just sighed. Maybe one day she would hear all these sorts of embarassing stories about Delphine, but for now, it was all about Cosima, all the time.

“When was this?” Delphine asked.

“When I was, like, six or something. I don't really remember it.”

“You were seven,” Gene said. “It was the fall of '91, because Ollie North just got cleared of all charges.”

“That's a heck of an association you have there, Dad.”

He wiped his hands on a paper napkin and shrugged. “That's what we were talking about when your mother realized you were missing.”

“How did you fall off?” Charlotte asked. “You said you grew up on boats.”

“I did. Part of growing up around boats is falling off of them once in a while. It builds character.”

Gene snorted again. “It almost killed you, and your mother nearly had a heart attack a couple times in a row. But we'll say it builds character, sure.”

“Didn't you have a life jacket?” Charlotte asked.

“Nope. No one did.”

Charlotte looked at her with arched eyebrows, imagining a version of herself floating in the bay without a life jacket on. “But you could swim, you said. You told me you learned when you were super little.”

“Yes, but swimming in open water is totally different than swimming in the neighborhood pool, and that's all I'd done before.”

“You could have drowned,” Delphine said. She took Cosima's hand and linked their fingers together.

“She very nearly did,” Gene repeated. He pointed a knobbly finger at Charlotte. “That's why we want you learning how to float and tread water, yeah?”

Cosima rose to clear away the snack plates. “Yeah, Dad, the swimming lessons were totally your idea, not Charlotte's. Seriously, though, Charlotte, you should probably stay out of the wave pool at Gemma's party. Waves make everything more difficult.” 

As she tidied up in the kitchen, her phone dinged several times, followed immediately by Delphine's. Cosima's hands were full, so Delphine checked the messages. “It's Art,” she said. “He says he's heard back from a translator... hang on.” 

Relieved to move on from childhood stories, Cosima stuck her head around the mini dividing wall that separated the kitchenette and living area. “Which language?”

“Azerbaijani.”

“Oh!” 

They knew very little about the clone in Azerbaijan besides the name on their list. She was not on social media and did not come up in Google searches. As with a few other clones with a similar lack of online presence, Art had gotten a translator to comb the internet for any sign of her. 

“Oh no,” Delphine said. “It looks like she's dead.”

Cosima's chest lurched, and she held on to the counter to keep from falling over. “Are you serious? We, I mean, did we just...?” _Did we just not make it in time?_

Delphine shook her head. “It wasn't the disease. Art attached an article with the translator's notes. It seems she died in a car accident on a major highway in Baku a few weeks ago.”

“Oh, shit.” Despite the tragedy, though, Cosima's heart lightened. It wasn't their fault. Their Azerbaijani sister had not died because Cosima started curing clones in the wrong countries first. 

* * *

Back at Sarah's house, Kira and Helena were undressing the Christmas tree when Cosima, Delphine, and Charlotte arrived. In the dining room, Alison and Sarah sat at the table and waved at them.

“They will need your help,” Helena said as a greeting. “They have spreadsheet.”

“It's the boring stuff,” Kira told them. “But I think Auntie Alison's really into it.”

At the table, Sarah and Alison sat with the Foundation laptop, the adding machine, and neatly sorted piles of papers. When she saw them, Sarah leaned back in her chair and stretched. “Right,” she said. “I'll get you both some tea, and you can take over from here.”

It wasn't a surprise. Alison had been trying to talk Clone Business ever since they got back to Canada, and they'd always put it off.

While Charlotte went upstairs, Cosima took a seat at the table, Delphine across from her, and looked over the papers. In one stack were invoices, receipts, and printed budgets from their months in Latin America. In another were pricing tables for hotels and regional transportation options in North Africa, the Middle East, and Turkey. Delphine sat near a list of doctors and translators, both here in Canada and in the respective countries, which Delphine herself had helped to compile. Closest to Alison was a printed, color-coded itinerary going through the end of May. 

“Wait, Alison, hang on.” Cosima pulled the itinerary over. “This isn't the one we sent you last month.”

“I know. I've made some changes to save us a little money.”

“Okay, but you have us going to Israel before we go to Kuwait, Lebanon, or Saudi Arabia.”

Alison pulled up her own schedule on the laptop. “Yes, there are some great deals on airfare to Tel-Aviv, and I found a wonderful hotel you can stay in for half price, but only within those dates. It would be foolish to wait!”

“Yeah, but...” The morning at the pool had tired her out, and Cosima found the words hard to come by. “We can't do that, Alison.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” Delphine explained, “those countries – Kuwait, Lebanon, Saudi Arabia, plus some of the others – do not accept travelers with Israeli stamps in their passports. We need to go to all of those countries, so we have to save Israel for later, unless one of the sisters there is showing severe symptoms.”

“Which they're not, as far as we know,” Cosima said. If the Israeli Ledas started to show symptoms, they had agreed to split up, so one of them would cure the Israelis and the other would continue through the rest of the region. Cosima did not want to bring that up with Alison, though. Alison would just suggest that they split up for the entire project, and she did not want to have that conversation again.

Alison blinked several times. “Are you serious? Countries can't just _do_ that!”

“Well, they are doing that,” Cosima said. “And now isn't really the time to debate the reasons why. We just want to get into all of these countries, whatever their governments are trying to do, and cure our sisters.”

“Yes.” Delphine nodded.

“Well!” Alison huffed. “If that's not the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard.” She typed away at the laptop, then took a black marker and drew a fat X through the printed itinerary. 

“Actually, Alison...” Cosima figured this was as good a time as any to bring it up. “I was thinking, maybe I could take over some of the planning. I mean, you've got so much other stuff on your plate, and I'm actually going to these places...”

Alison straightened her posture even more. “It's not a problem for me to do it. The work on the house should be finished tomorrow, and then I'll have some more time on my hands.”

Cosima glanced at Delphine, who looked like she was holding her breath. “Okay, well, uh...” She wanted to say, _I would be better at it than you are,_ but she knew that would go over like a lead balloon. “Don't you remember, though, all those times we had to cancel things at the last minute?”

Alison fiddled with her necklace. “I believe that only happened twice, didn't it?”

“Twice? No, it was more than that.” She grabbed the stack of receipts and sifted through it, pretending not to see Alison's nostrils flaring as her careful piles of paper scattered. “There was the time in Costa Rica, the time with Puerto Rico...” 

“Santiago,” Delphine added.

“Yes,” Alison said, “but that just shows how much you need someone to man the reservations while you're out there curing everybody!” 

“Listen,” Cosima said. “You do so much work for us, and I know that you're happy to do it, but sometimes we just need a little more flexibility.”

Alison hesitated, her lips a tight line. Delphine cleared her throat. 

“I think that this flexibility will be especially important in some of the countries we're going to next. In Ethiopia, for example, we know that, euh, what's her name?”

Cosima froze. She had tried so hard in the beginning to learn all of the sisters' names, and she had always known the names of the clones they were treating in a given week, but now she drew a blank. She shook her head and scrambled for the Leda List that Alison had set out somewhere. 

“It starts with a B, I think? Barbara? Beatriz? Betty?”

“Anyway,” Delphine went on. “The Leda in Ethiopia is _based_ in Bahir Dar, but her organization works in the rural areas a lot, so she could be in any of 1,000 villages in Ethiopia, and it could take us weeks to find her. We need to be flexible with our planning, so if we need a bus, or a driver, right away, we can get one.”

“Of course,” Alison agreed. “But your flight into Addis Ababa can be arranged in advance, can't it?”

Cosima leaned back and rubbed her face. She could swear they'd had this conversation before, at least once. “Alison, you know that there's, like, a hundred sestras out there about whom we know basically nothing right now. We don't know how healthy they are, if they've shown any symptoms, or anything. I mean, just today we found out that our sestra in Baku was killed in a car crash, like, three weeks ago. We had no idea.”

“What?!” Alison slapped a hand down on the table, making Helena and Kira jump. “And you're just telling me this _now_?”

“We just got here,” Delphine said, reminding Cosima of a number of other situations when Delphine had said that, but with a singular pronoun instead. 

Cosima leaned towards Alison. “Listen. All I'm suggesting is that maybe it'd be better for all of us if you had more of a back-up role. You can still do all the research that you're so good at, and forward that to us, and we can make the decisions on the ground.”

Alison huffed. “Perhaps.”

“Just think about it, huh?”

Her eyebrows arched, Alison went back to the itinerary on her computer, closed it, and found the original in her email inbox. “So this is the schedule the two of you prefer, yes?”

“Yes,” Cosima and Delphine said together. 

“And you don't want to save Syria or Yemen for later?”

“No,” they said together. 

Alison sighed but did not pursue the matter. “I have hotels picked out for you, but not reserved, of course. You will need head or body coverings in some places...” Her tone said exactly what she thought of that.

“We know,” Cosima said. “That's fine. Scott has an Iranian coworker who's given us a lot of great tips about... well, about going to Iran, anyway.”

“Just don't tell anyone you're lesbians while you're over there, okay?”

Cosima looked over at Delphine, who was trying to hide a smirk. “Um, why don't you let us worry about that, Alison?” Cosima said.

“Well, I just don't want to find out that you've been brutally murdered by fanatical religious zealots, okay?”

“Okay.”

“At least not before Clone Fest. Which, I notice, is not even on your itinerary.”

“Clone Fest?” Delphine asked.

“Oh, shit, right.” Cosima put her hand to her forehead. “All of our birthdays are within, like, a month of each other, so Alison had the idea that should all celebrate together. Clone Fest. It's the end of March, isn't it?”

“Mmhmm. I certainly hope you plan on attending. There's not much point in having Clone Fest without all four of us being present.”

Cosima nodded. “Yeah, sure, we'll be there. I mean, I assume Delphine's invited to at least part of it?”

“Of course she is, don't be silly.” 

While Alison poked around the schedule some more and looked for any other travel restrictions they should know about, Delphine got them some more tea, then drifted into the living room to see the babies. Cosima wanted to drift in there with her, but Alison kept making little comments like, “you know that city was bombed twice in the past five years” and “you're not even allowed to kiss in public there!” Eventually Cosima zoned out, preferring to think of the warm Mediterranean breezes and delicious Middle Eastern cuisines they would soon be enjoying.

“And do you really need to spend two whole weeks in Paris?”

Cosima blinked back to reality. “Huh?”

“On the itinerary you sent me, down here towards the bottom, you're going to spend about two or three days each in six French cities, right after you leave Israel, and then you're spending two weeks in Paris. There's only one of our sisters in Paris.”

Delphine leaned against the wall, tea mug in hand. “Those two weeks aren't for Clone Business. And I'm paying for it myself, so you don't have to worry about that.”

Alison breathed a sigh of relief, but her eyes still bugged out a little. “You're paying for two weeks in Paris in late May?”

“Oui. It's a late birthday present for Cosima.”

Alison leaned back and looked at Cosima with her highest eyebrows, then went back to her laptop. Cosima could almost hear her future conversation with Donnie. _”Donnie, why haven't_ you _ever taken me to Paris?”_ she would ask, and Donnie would splutter.

“In that case,” Alison said, “don't let me stop you.”

* * *

They dropped Cosima's parents off at the airport together, on the last Tuesday of the year. The weather was miserable all day, amplifying Sally and Gene's sadness about leaving their daughter behind after such an enlightening visit. Watching the sleet hit the windshield, Cosima almost wished she were going with them, but realized she couldn't imagine living in California anymore, even if Delphine came with her. California belonged to Old Cosima, to Only-Child Cosima. Cosima the Clone belonged with her sisters.

“You know,” Sally said, “your cousins have been asking about you, too. And your aunts and uncles, and....”

“And Grandma and Grandpa, yeah, I know.”

“They would love to see you in person. And they would love to meet Delphine.”

“Mom....”

“I know, I know, you're going to be off traveling the world...” Sally picked at the lint on her coat. “...waltzing into the world's most dangerous places without so much as an armed escort...”

“Oh, Jesus Christ.” Cosima rubbed her temples. 

“We might get an armed escort of some kind,” Delphine said. “Or at least, we won't be going in completely on our own. I have contacts with MSF and other organizations who are willing to help us.”

“Well, I suppose that's something. Just make sure you stay in touch, okay?” She tapped Cosima's arm.

Cosima turned. “We will. I promise.”

“And tell us what you need help with for this wedding that you _allegedly_ have coming up!”

Cosima and Delphine exchanged a brief look. Sally's frustration at their lack of firm wedding plans had not been assuaged by the rough Leda Cure itinerary for the coming year. “We will,” Delphine said. 

“At least I'm not the only one who's on your case about it. Alison gave me her number, by the way.”

 _Oh, God._ Cosima took a deep breath. “Okay. Just... don't plan anything without us, okay? Seriously.”

Sally clicked her tongue. “Fine.”

Delphine steered the car into the international departures drop-off area. The freezing rain and sleet kept their goodbyes short, as Cosima and Delphine got the luggage from the trunk and onto a luggage cart. 

“We'll call you when we're home,” Gene promised her. 

“It was good to meet you, Delphine!” Sally called as they hustled inside, and then they were gone. 

Cosima and Delphine sat together in the car for a few minutes before driving off again. The city felt quieter without Cosima's parents in it, even though they were less than a quarter-mile away. Cosima thought about the splotches on her mother's arms that she swore were fine, and how her father's doctor was concerned about his heart. She thought about her mother's parents, both in their late eighties, and her Aunt Dee, recovering from colon cancer.

Delphine took her hand and kissed the back. “Are you ready?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Let's get back to work.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to FrenchClone for the French help!


End file.
